


Worth It

by Raine_Wynd



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Bombing, Canon-Typical Violence, Clan Denial, Drama, F/M, Foul Language, Friendship, Immortals, Loyalty, Post-Series, Richie Lives, Romance, Secrets, Temporary Character Death, Trust, Watchers, quickenings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-06-28 09:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19809430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/pseuds/Raine_Wynd
Summary: When is loving an immortal worth it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I wrote Duncan in love with a woman. I'm hoping y'all like Tamika as much as I've come to love her.

####  _Wednesday, July 10, 2019 6:30 pm Seacouver/Thursday 3 AM Paris_

The upscale, four-star, Asian fusion restaurant was in Seacouver’s tallest building, towering thirty-six stories above ground. It had a rooftop deck and a 180-degree view of the city.

“Duncan, you shouldn’t have,” Tamika murmured as they sat down.

“Not every day my lady gets promoted to senior associate of the firm,” Duncan told her. “You deserve this.”

Tamika chuckled. “Even if I make enough to afford a place like this, it feels a bit much,” she argued. “We’ve only been dating for four months.”

“Would you rather I ignore this occasion and pretend it didn’t happen?” Duncan asked her.

Tamika shook her head, her wavy black hair brushing her bare shoulders as she did so. She had worn a strapless dress that fit her generous curves and her ample height. She was half black and half Japanese, with a wide oval face, almond-shaped brown eyes, a small nose, full lips, and a pointed chin. She had grown up in a culturally mixed, lower-income household; she had struggled to have enough funds to go to college and finish her degree in architecture despite pressure from her mother to stay home. Tamika did not dispute her boyfriend’s desire to celebrate her promotion. She had worked hard to become senior associate at thirty-five, eleven years after launching her career. She merely thought his choice of celebratory restaurant was over-the-top. “No, of course not,” she told Duncan now. “It just feels –”

“Too much,” Duncan repeated. He looked at her. “Would you rather we go somewhere else?”

“Do you mind?” she asked. “I’d rather go to someplace not so pretentiously stuffy, like the Waterfront Grill.”

“Then we will.” He rose and led her out of the restaurant before driving them to the other restaurant.

On a Wednesday night, even at seven pm, the Pacific Northwest-themed restaurant was not full, and they were seated quickly.

“This is better,” Tamika said, relieved, after they had placed their orders with their server.

Duncan smiled. “Was it the expense of the restaurant or my willingness to take you there that bothered you?”

“Both,” she said honestly. “I guess I didn’t quite believe you when you told me you were well-off. I mean, I see you own and run a martial arts dojo and I don’t think, ‘oh, Duncan is rich.’ Most of the martial arts instructors I’ve ever met do it for a love of the art and the sport, not because it’s going to make them rich.”

“I’ve been lucky,” Duncan admitted. “My cousin taught me never to take money for granted, and we’ve both worked hard to keep ourselves financially stable.”

“Your cousin in New York?”

Duncan nodded.

“You mentioned him. When I told my mom about you, she asked me if you had any other family.”

“I have friends I consider family,” Duncan told her. “I have one friend who is like a son to me. His name is Richie Ryan; I helped him get off the streets and turn his life around.”

Fascinated, Tamika leaned in. “How old was he?”

“Seventeen when we first met,” Duncan told her. “He was a foster kid who ran away from a home where they didn’t care what happened to him as long as the checks kept coming in. He tried to steal from me; I gave him a chance to reconsider his options. Richie took that chance and ran with it. He’s been keeping me on my toes ever since.”

“You sound immensely proud. What is he doing now?”

“He’s the lead bartender of a popular nightclub in Paris,” Duncan said, just as his phone buzzed with an incoming text. Ignoring it, Duncan continued, “A mutual friend owns it.” His phone buzzed again with a second text.

“That’s hard work,” Tamika said. Noticing Duncan’s aborted move towards his phone, she urged, “At least check it. You don’t usually get texts from anyone.”

Grateful, Duncan pulled out his phone.

 _Sorry to bother you during your dinner,_ the text from Joe Dawson read, _but the news is reporting Sanctuary has exploded. I haven’t heard from the Watchers in Paris and I’m not getting any replies from Amanda, Richie, or Nick. If you have Richie’s cell number, please call him._

Shocked, Duncan pulled up CNN, and read the headline, “Breaking News - Paris Nightclub Explosion.”

“I’m sorry, Tamika, but I just heard from a friend that the place Richie was working at in Paris has exploded.”

“Exploded? How? A gas leak?”

In reply, Duncan handed her his phone, wherein the news was still too fresh to assess cause.

Tamika handed his phone back. She signaled their server. “Can we take what we ordered to go? We just got some shocking news and we need to get home.”

“Of course; give us a few minutes,” the server told her.

Duncan hastily gave the server his credit card. “And let me pay for it so we can go. Tamika, if you want, I can take you home.”

“Nonsense,” Tamika replied. “If nothing else, I can hold your hand while you make phone calls.”

“I appreciate it, Tamika, but I’d feel better if you didn’t hear me swearing in two languages, and I don’t know how long it’ll be before I hear from my friends.”

Tamika chuckled softly. “All right,” she agreed. “I’d hate to ruin your image as a perfect gentleman.”

* * *

After dropping Tamika off at her condo, Duncan drove home. He had opted to open his latest martial arts studio in a strip mall two miles from his home, after hearing reports of headhunters increasingly using bombs to obtain Quickenings, so that he could separate where he lived from his work. The one-story, ranch-style home was in one of Seacouver’s older neighborhoods, with a large, fenced-in backyard. The garage was a separate building from the house proper, connected to the alley that ran behind the row of houses on the block. None of those details, however, registered on Duncan’s mind as he parked his car and moved hurriedly into the house.

Once in the privacy of his living room, he dialed first Amanda, then Richie, and then Joe.

“Have you heard anything?” he asked Joe, after getting no answer from either Amanda or Richie.

“Other than it’s not a gas leak? No customers were in the club; they closed at 2 AM, but that just meant the closing staff were still in the building when the bomb went off. EMS crews are on scene; the news is showing them pulling out bodies,” Joe said grimly. “Mac, I hate to say this, but the Watchers are reporting seeing Quickening lightning, but they can’t confirm whose it was. The last report I have said Richie was complaining about an immortal woman and former Watcher named Madeleine Chevrette, who wouldn’t take his no for an answer.”

Duncan took a deep breath. “I thought Sanctuary was holy ground.”

“The ground the building housing Sanctuary sits on is, but the alley, the street, and the building next door aren’t,” Joe pointed out. “I didn’t believe Nick until he showed me where the property lines are. Mac, that hour of the day, even if Amanda, Nick, and Richie were all off work, they would’ve been upstairs in the apartments. If I know Nick and Richie, they were in the club, working, which means Amanda was there, too.”

Duncan had met Nick Wolfe, Amanda’s lover and business partner, a few years after the pair had started running Sanctuary together. He had been impressed by how Nick had given him and Amanda the space to be with each other if they wished, but the encounter had only proved to Duncan his time to be with Amanda had passed. Silently, Duncan hoped Nick was alive; he had gotten the impression Amanda loved him deeply, an emotion Nick returned in equal measure, and that Richie considered him to be a good friend, if occasionally rigid in his principles.

“Do you think I need to be there?” Duncan asked.

“I’d wait until you hear from Richie, Amanda, or Nick, or from Father Liam,” Joe recommended. “Father Liam is the closest immortal to help them; I can’t see where you would be much help. My gut says those three knew who would attack them; they just didn’t think it would go this far.”

“Appreciate it, Joe.” Duncan disconnected the line.

Too wired to wait patiently, he paced his living room, praying for a miracle. He heard nothing the rest of the night and watching the news online didn’t help. Of the eighteen staff on duty that night, six were dead, and of those alive, most were severely injured. Eventually, the news reported that the owners, Amanda Darieux and Nick Wolfe, were among the dead, and Duncan’s heart sank. He couldn’t imagine Amanda permanently dead – she was too resilient, too cunning, too much of a survivor – to have lost her head. Losing Nick would be devastating to Amanda. Duncan held no grudge against the younger immortal who had taken his place in Amanda’s life as her primary lover – and he didn’t want to see Nick permanently dead either; he liked him. Nick had been the first immortal Richie had helped to teach; Duncan understood what that meant to Richie. 

Certain he could not focus on work, Duncan closed the martial arts studio Thursday, cancelling all classes and claiming a family emergency. Until he had confirmation of what happened to his friends, he wanted to be alone to process. His phone and email buzzed all morning with other friends checking in, wanting to know if he had heard anything from Amanda, Richie, or Nick.

On Thursday, Connor called him at 5:30 AM, Seacouver time. “The hunters have fled Paris. They sent one to me last night, hoping to bomb my building and catch me unawares.”

Glancing at his watch, Duncan did the time zone calculation in his head. It was 7:30 AM in New York, 1 PM in Paris. “Who was it?”

Connor told him, “Her name was Laurene Chastain. She thought she was too pretty to be caught.”

“Was she any good with a sword?”

“She missed being placed on the French women’s sabre team in the 2007 World Fencing Championships by two points,” Connor said dryly. “She thought she was robbed.”

Connor did not have the same reservation Duncan had about taking a woman’s head. In a fight like that, where his female opponent had some measure of skill, Connor would not treat her any different than a male opponent of the same skill. Duncan bit back the instinctive urge to ask his cousin if he had offered Laurene any mercy; Connor would not have wasted breath on that, given the circumstances.

“I take it she didn’t want to walk away when you caught her.”

Connor chuckled harshly. “She tried to kill me, cousin. She was supposed to be here at the same time as the bombing of Sanctuary in Paris, but her timing was off because she forgot to adjust for the six-hour time difference and how jet lag would affect her. She tried two hours ago.”

By then, the news about Paris would have been published and updated. By then, too, Connor would have been up and getting ready to go out for a run. “Anything I should know about these hunters?”

“Laurene was supposed to be their best sword fighter; she was one of the four who masterminded this plot. She didn’t give up her compatriots when I took her head, but I’m certain Amanda, Richie, and Nick are still alive. You’d know it if those three lost their heads, Duncan; Amanda’s Quickening alone would be massive, especially on holy ground. That explosion in Paris was a deliberately set bomb.”

“And the lightning?”

“Not them. My guess is it belongs to one of Laurene’s compatriots.” Connor paused. “Watch your head, Duncan. Laurene didn’t know holy ground was sacred; she took her teacher’s head for suggesting she try and respect it.”

“Thanks, Connor. I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * *

####  _Thursday, July 11 9 AM Seacouver/Friday, July 12 6 pm Paris_

Midmorning Thursday, Duncan’s phone rang. The caller ID was unfamiliar, but Duncan answered anyway. The call went instantly to video, which gave Duncan the clear image of his former student, looking as if he had not yet changed clothes. Ashes and dirt clung to his Sanctuary-issue polo shirt and khakis.

“Hey, Mac, sorry to scare you, but we had a building explode on us,” Richie said, sounding exhausted. He sat on the couch of an anonymous hotel room somewhere in Paris. “And I took a Quickening I wasn’t expecting – our assistant bartender was a pre-immortal who died permanently when the flying glass and debris simultaneously killed him and sliced his neck.”

“I saw the news; Joe told me he had heard reports of Quickening lightning. You okay?”

Richie sighed heavily; grief clear in his face. “I’ve had better days, but at least I’m not dead in Paris. Amanda and Nick are. I couldn’t stop the EMS from taking them out as corpses while the news crews were filming. Nick hunted down the bitch who thought she could cheat to win; she won’t be hurting anyone else again.” Richie took a deep breath. “Bad news is that Madeleine was part of a gang of headhunters who think using bombs is easier, and this was her big test. If she got us three and anyone else here who was immortal, then she would be more ready to take you on.”

“I heard from Connor this morning. He said someone named Laurene Chastain, who was part of a gang, tried to bomb his building and take his head. Of the four she had been conspiring with, she had been the gang’s best sword fighter.”

Richie grimaced. “That explains where she went.”

Ignoring that comment for the moment, Duncan asked, “Where are Amanda and Nick?”

“We’re here, darling,” Amanda assured him; Richie swung his phone’s camera to include her and Nick. Nick’s head lay in her lap, and her right hand rested in his brown hair. His eyes were closed, but he held up a hand and waved hello without ever opening his eyes.

Duncan smiled in relief. Nick had the look of a man who had recently taken a massive Quickening and was recuperating, thank you very much. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Nick acknowledged that sentiment with a slight salute.

“He gets nonverbal after he takes a head, and Madeleine’s was bigger than he was expecting,” Amanda explained.

“Laurene’s group had targeted several other immortals in France before moving their attention to us,” Richie added. “Nick got suspicious when he heard a few of the quieter immortals on holy ground were being reported dead. He didn’t think the pattern fit your standard Game headhunt and warned us to be careful.

“I made the mistake of thinking Madeleine was just another young immortal who wouldn’t take no for an answer when I turned down her offer to be my lover. Then I caught sight of her Watcher tattoo and realized she might leverage the Chronicles to win.”

“Another Horton?” Duncan asked in alarm.

“No,” Amanda told him, shaking her head. “From what Nick told us, this gang of headhunters is determined to win the Game, but their info is at least ten years out of date. They believed the old gossip about you taking Richie’s head as the reason why he was living and working here.”

Duncan’s eyes widened. A scheme in 1998 by Cassandra to separate him from his closest friends had made Duncan think he had taken Richie’s head – but Connor, who had always seen through magic better than Duncan, had foiled her efforts. Connor couldn’t undo the rumors, though. Both he and Richie had been convinced it would be better to let the falsehood lie; those that knew the truth knew it, and those wanted to know it would ask. Duncan had chafed at that decision, uncomfortable with the implication he had lost his mind, but eventually had decided not to fight gossip.

“Which also means they assume he will run somewhere he feels safe,” Duncan concluded.

“And I’m not risking the open road to play their version of the Game,” Richie declared. “But given Amanda and Nick are dead here, and we’ve done all we can to ensure the property and our staff are taken care of, I need to get out of Paris while the getting is good. Amanda and Nick are headed to Torago after meeting with their lawyer tonight, but that leaves me without a place to live. Plus, the Parisian fire marshal has declared the building is structurally unsafe. Amanda and I snuck back in this morning to get what things we could salvage, and it freaked me out.”

“I don’t understand why you can balance on a motorcycle and get weirded out by rappelling gear,” Amanda murmured, in a tone of an old, familiar argument.

Richie shot Amanda a look. “Let’s not get into why having ropes you tied around my ass is something I try to minimize as much as possible. You have an unbelievably bad habit of dropping me without warning, Amanda.”

“Come on home,” Duncan inserted, suspecting Richie was gearing up to ask. “You know you’ll always have a room in my house.”

Richie sagged in relief. “Appreciate that, Mac. I’ll send you my flight details as soon as I have them set up.”

Nick reached over and tapped Richie’s arm. Richie looked down; Nick signed something in rapid American Sign Language. Duncan recognized some of it, but it was too fast for him to follow, and he quickly lost track. Duncan’s eyes widened as he realized he had not known Amanda, Richie, and Nick knew ASL, but it made sense they would have come up with a way to communicate if Nick became nonverbal after taking a head.

“Oh, and Nick says to be careful of anyone claiming to be my lover or my Watcher, or hell, anyone who knows of us that way,” Richie summarized Nick’s warning. “My Watcher is a big, burly Australian dude named Nathan Wilson. He’s currently ripping the Watchers a new one for not making sure the psychos didn’t keep their tattoos when they were kicked out ten years ago. Madeleine’s boyfriend is Charles de Brisay, and they have two other friends: Jason King and Laurene Chastain. Madeleine and Charles are former Watchers; their other friends aren’t.” Richie grimaced. “They like to introduce themselves as your new Watcher. None of them are with the organization. We couldn’t find Jason or Charles. If Connor took Laurene’s head last night, that just leaves Jason and Charles.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Duncan murmured. “Have you spoken to Joe yet?”

“He’s next on our list,” Richie said, nodding. “Mac, you’re the only one he’s Watching; they’ve locked him out of a lot of info because of the fuss he’s made over the years. Nathan says he doesn’t like the way the organization isn’t learning from its mistakes, but he’s convinced he can change it if he stays on the inside.”

“Did you tell him good luck?”

“All the time,” Richie half-laughed. “Watch your head.”

“You too, all of you.”

Amanda blew him a kiss, but Nick held up a hand, stopping it, without ever opening his eyes.

Duncan laughed, convinced Nick knew exactly how Amanda’s mind worked and loved her anyway. Richie grinned and nodded, confirming Duncan’s suspicion, then disconnected the video call.

Assured by the call, Duncan let go of the tension he had been holding. An hour later, his email beeped with the notification of Richie’s flight details. Richie would be on a nonstop, ten-hour flight that would fly him out on Saturday morning, Paris time, and arrive in Seacouver on Saturday afternoon local time. Duncan noted the flight details and time, and quickly arranged for his assistant dojo manager to take over his classes for that afternoon.

* * *

####  _Thursday, July 11 6 PM Seacouver_

“Have you heard from your friends in Paris?” Tamika asked Duncan later that afternoon as she walked home from work. She owned a condo in one of the city’s older buildings on the west end of downtown, a fifteen-minute walk from her workplace. “I saw on the news the owners of the club were among the dead; I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Duncan replied. “It’s hard to imagine Amanda and Nick dead.” He paused, taking a breath before adding, “Richie survived, but he’s lost both his job and his apartment. He was nominally sharing Nick’s apartment, but Nick was usually with Amanda, since he and Amanda were lovers and business partners.”

“Oh, Duncan, I’m so sorry. How long were they together?”

“Twenty years. They lasted a lot longer than I thought they would, but I have to admit I was one of the doubters at first, since I’d known Amanda a lot longer than I had Nick. Richie said they arranged everything in advance, and they just said to raise a glass to them in memory, have a party. He says their lawyer’s handling all the funeral arrangements and he doesn’t have to do anything, not even show up if he doesn’t want to – and he doesn’t want to. Says it’ll be too difficult for him to stand there.”

“I can understand that,” Tamika murmured. “I saw the news images. That bomb took out the corner of the building, which would make the building structurally unsound, and they mentioned something about apartments above the club? Were your friends living above the club? No, wait, you just told me they were. I’m sorry, if I’m confused and rattled, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.”

Duncan chuckled grimly. “I’m glad Richie’s alive, but he doesn’t have a place to live now. It’ll take the local investigators weeks before they close the case and Richie’s visa was tied to his employment at Sanctuary. The Parisian officials have declared the building structurally unsafe, as you noted, so he can’t even stay in the building. Easier for him to come home and figure out what to do next.”

“He’s not hurt, is he?”

“Just mourning everyone who died, and a bit rattled. Richie had just stepped away from the bar when the bomb went off, so he wasn’t buried under a mountain of shattered liquor bottles as his assistant was.”

“That sounds lucky indeed. What did Richie do there?”

“He was the lead bartender,” Duncan said, pride clear in his voice.

Tamika frowned. She had imagined anyone Duncan considered his son to have a job that required more formal education. She had grown up with a parental emphasis on education, in the belief that more education equated to higher earnings and better chances at success. “Which means what?”

“Amanda and Nick were co-owners, but in practical terms, that meant the day-to-day operations fell to Nick and then Richie. Amanda liked to know what was going on, but the details bored her; Nick and Richie saved her for charming the really difficult customers.”

“The news said Sanctuary was a high-end nightclub, one of the top five nightclubs in the city,” Tamika said. “Does Richie know why someone wanted to bomb it?

“Someone wanted Amanda and Nick, the owners of the club, dead. Richie said it was a disgruntled customer.”

“I’m so sorry. Please give Richie my condolences.”

“I will,” Duncan promised.

“I know we usually have dinner on Friday, but I understand if you want to skip it this week so you can get your house ready for Richie. When will he be in town?”

“I’ll pick him up on Saturday afternoon around lunch. Did you want to meet him at dinner?”

“If he’s not too jet-lagged,” Tamika agreed. She disconnected the call shortly thereafter.

She had just unlocked her condo when her phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she saw it was her best friend, Julie Beaulieu.

“Hey, Julie,” Tamika greeted, stepping into her condo, and shutting the door behind herself. “What’s up?”

“Just called to check in with you. You’ve been spending so much more time with Duncan lately; I haven’t seen you.”

Tamika considered the question as she set her work tote down on the coffee table and kicked off her shoes. “That might change.”

“Oh? How come? Trouble in paradise?”

“No. He has a friend named Richie, who is like a son to him. Richie was in the nightclub that was bombed in Paris earlier this week, so he’s coming home.”

“Was he hurt?”

“Duncan said no.” Tamika repeated what Duncan had told her, adding, “But that means he’ll probably be busier.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Julie pointed out. “Legal drinking age in France is eighteen, and to be a lead bartender usually means a few years of experience. You’re looking at someone who’s probably late twenties, early thirties. Guy like that – is he single? If he’s as good looking as Duncan, I’d be happy to occupy him, so you get your alone time with Duncan.”

“Don’t know,” Tamika said, amused. “Tell you what, though – why don’t we make plans to meet for brunch on Saturday, since I won’t be with Duncan like I usually have been? At Patti’s Breakfast House at 9 AM?”

“You’re on.”

Pleased by that conversation, Tamika disconnected the line.

* * *

####  _Saturday, July 12, 12:30 PM_

Two days later, Duncan met Richie at the airport. Richie dropped his three duffel bags in the convertible’s backseat before sliding into the passenger seat and pulling the door shut. People and vehicles crowded the arrivals area of the terminal ; Duncan took a few minutes before he pulled away from the curb and merged into the outgoing traffic lane.

“How was the flight?” Duncan asked once they were safely out of the terminal.

“Typical nonstop transatlantic flight,” Richie told him. “Cue non-stop screaming child at cruising altitude.” He offered Duncan a quick grin. “Thank God for noise-cancelling headphones. Also – in case I haven’t said this already – thanks for letting me crash with you. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I find a job and get my own place.”

“No rush,” Duncan told him honestly. “I figured you’d be home sometime. Guest suite is on the other side of the main room from the master bedroom, so you shouldn’t hear anything from the master bedroom.”

Richie grinned. “Oh, so not like the barge, then?”

“You will never let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope,” Richie said unrepentantly. “Especially since you had no idea if I was good with being on a ship and you and Tessa rocked the boat.”

Duncan winced; to his credit, he had forgotten Richie had been in the aft cabin. “I’ve apologized. What more do you want me to do?”

Richie grinned. “Warn me next time you live somewhere with thin walls and no privacy?”

“Hey, this house is the most private I’ve ever had since I’ve known you.”

“We’ll see. Same house rules as before? No overdoing the alcohol, no drugs, no loud music or TV after 9 PM or before 6 AM, do your laundry including the bed linens and towels, clean up common spaces and the guest bathroom, no parties or overnight guests without permission?”

“Any problem with any of those?”

“No, though I should tell you I’ve also been seeing more men than women lately.”

Duncan used the excuse of a stoplight to look at Richie. “I remember when you told me you were bisexual, but you kept falling in love with women.”

Richie chuckled ruefully. “And getting involved with the wrong people.” He shook his head at his younger self. “Took me a while to figure out what I was doing wrong.”

“Any truth to the rumor you were involved with Amanda and Nick?”

Richie chuckled. “No, but it amused them to keep people guessing. Nick’s too deeply in love with Amanda to want anyone else, and given what I know about them, I’d rather not get romantically involved with either of them. Speaking of girlfriends – a little birdie told me you have a new one.”

“Tamika Johnson,” Duncan nodded, not surprised. Richie had become well-connected during his years in Paris. Duncan had long suspected one of Nick’s talents was an ability to ferret out who was who among their kind, something Amanda would treasure, since her skill was greater with words and charm than swords. “She was just promoted to a senior associate at City Architects, a medium-sized firm downtown. They do half their work with civic and government buildings, and the other half is a mix of private and high-end residential.”

“Have you told her about immortals yet?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to?” Richie’s voice held curiosity, not censure.

“Maybe,” Duncan allowed. “I haven’t decided yet; we’ve been dating for four months now. Please don’t enlighten her unless you absolutely have to.”

“I won’t,” Richie promised, holding up a hand as if to swear an oath. “Trust me, I remember how well that whole thing with Anne Lindsey went.”

Duncan grimaced at the reminder of that failed relationship. “Have you ever loved anyone enough to tell?”

“Nah, but it’s been hard to find someone who looks at what I do for a living and accepts it as a real, decent-paying job. The few people who did, who were with me long enough for me to introduce them to Amanda and Nick, didn’t get that I had no problem sharing an apartment with my boss. I didn’t always have the heart to tell them that my boss was usually in the apartment next door, so I basically had my own place.”

Duncan chuckled. “Seeing them together on the video when we last talked really cemented their relationship for me. I’m glad Amanda’s happy.”

“Me too. I mean, I’ve seen you and her together, and that was cool, but after I saw her and Nick, I realized she wouldn’t ever stop being a thief for you. For Nick, she changed.”

Duncan nodded. “When I was in Paris to visit, the fact he made himself scarce told me he respected our history. Cory wasn’t like that.”

Richie laughed. “Cory would steal Amanda away in a heartbeat if she let him, but he tried that seven years ago and Amanda wouldn’t budge. Last time I saw that look of ‘oh, shit, I fucked up’ was when we blew him up. Cory tried to get me to convince Amanda to go with him, pull off one more heist, and I told him he was better off trying his luck elsewhere. He then told me he bet his teacher Amanda had gone straight and was in love with someone rock solid, and this was just confirmation.” Richie shook his head. “Damn that man.”

“Yeah, that’s Cory. Who’s his teacher?”

“Matthew McCormick. I thought you knew that?”

“No. Damn, that’s hilarious. One of our kind’s oldest lawmen has an incorrigible thief as a student. How did you find that out?”

“Cory told me. He said he was Robin Hood and Matthew was the sheriff of Nottingham.”

Duncan glanced at Richie. “Why do I get the impression you and Cory are friends now?”

Richie grinned. “Because you knew if I got to know him, he and I would get along like a house on fire?”

“So much for hoping you wouldn’t be tempted,” Duncan rued, with little heat.

“He knows I won’t help him steal anything, if it helps,” Richie offered. “He introduced me to my last long-time lover, then paid for my drinks and stood guard for me when I found out Paul cheated on me.”

Duncan sighed, remembering how endearing Cory was. “Yeah, Cory’s good for that.” He pulled into the alley behind his house and used his remote to open the garage door. “Do you expect him in town soon?”

“No, he started a company called Robin Hood Brewery down in Oregon. They’re making legal moonshine, gin, and whiskey.”

Duncan blinked as he shut off the car. “Really?”

“Yeah, I suspect Nick put the fear of facial recognition into him. Nick claimed he just wanted a US supplier of good, old-fashioned American spirits who could speak French, but he’s got this thing where he wants to take care of all of Amanda’s friends.”

“And make it so she’s less likely to steal?”

“Or have to fight,” Richie agreed, picking his bags out of the back seat, and exiting the car. “She’s a much better fighter than she pretends to be.”

“I know,” Duncan agreed. “I met her and Rebecca when they were selling their skills as sword teachers in Paris in 1635. Amanda just prefers it if I fight for her, and I keep falling for that.”

Richie shot him a grin. “Wondered if you ever figured that out.” Richie paused. “How serious are you about Tamika?”

Duncan met his gaze. “Serious enough to consider telling her about immortals.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I can’t put my finger on it,” Duncan said honestly. “But I’d like you to meet her tonight at dinner and tell me what you think of her, unless you’re too jetlagged and tired from everything that’s happened this week.”

Richie shook his head. “Either I’m getting better at processing awful shit or I just need three straight days of sleep.”

“Take a shower and a nap,” Duncan suggested. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to get ready for dinner.”

Richie shot him a quick smile. “I won’t feel right until I’ve unpacked my stuff, but I’ll take you up on that alarm.”

After locking the garage, Duncan led the way down the covered pathway to the back door to the house. “If Tamika is available for dinner, do you want something fancy or do you want something simple?”

“I’m good for either, but if it’s black tie, I need to replace my suit – it was too smoke-damaged to salvage, and I wasn’t about to stay in that building a second longer than I had to. Also, I’m cool with staying home and cooking, if she’s worried about you spending money.”

Duncan grinned. “You still don’t care as long as you get to eat.”

“Yup, though I’ve learned there’s some shit I won’t eat or cook. And yes, Mac, that list still includes haggis and blood sausage.”

Duncan pretended to be hurt. “You aren’t my student,” he proclaimed in his best Scottish accent.

Richie laughed. “Yes, but you still love me.”

“Aye,” Duncan agreed, and grinned.

The back door led to a mudroom that doubled as the laundry room. After pointing out the linen closet was beside the washer, and that the laundry detergent was in a cabinet above the washer and dryer, Duncan led the way into the kitchen. After having worked in an upscale club with a commercial kitchen, Richie recognized this kitchen was a standard modern home type, with stone countertops and appliances that looked like they had last been updated in the 1990s.

Immediately in front was the dining room; beyond it was the living room, but as Richie expected, few walls blocked the line of sight from the mudroom/laundry room door to the front. The front entry had a half-wall that served as an architectural feature; while the left and right sides of the kitchen had partial walls to support cabinetry and appliances. Passing through the kitchen, which had a center work island and a separate breakfast bar, Duncan led Richie to the left side of the house.

Two rooms were on that side of the house; the one closer to the front door was set up as a home office, the one with the view of the backyard was the guest room. The guest room had an ensuite bathroom, already stocked with towels. As Richie expected, the guest bedroom had a queen-sized bed with an ornately carved headboard and footposts, a pair of matching nightstands, and a chest at the foot of the bed full of quilts. The closet had sliding doors and a built-in four-drawer chest on one side. After leaving the closet open, Richie set his bags down.

“I forgot to ask – were you going to ship your motorcycle from Paris?”

Richie shook his head. “It was in the alley behind the club; I was lucky I found the license plate. Insurance tried to claim it wasn’t a total loss until I showed the adjuster the video of where it was parked the day before and when the explosion happened. Made me grateful Nick always uploaded the security video to the cloud in case the worst happened.”

Duncan winced sympathetically. “Do you need any help to buy a new one?”

“Appreciate the offer, but I’m good there. Figured I’d buy something decent and used, much as I’d love to have a brand-new motorcycle.” He met Duncan’s gaze. “Amanda and Nick paid me a regular salary and tip share, so I have been able to save money. It’s one reason I didn’t want to leave. They were actually debating how much longer we could credibly run Sanctuary without the staff noticing we hadn’t aged before this all happened. I’d just renewed my visa too – figured I’d be staying in Paris another decade.” He sighed heavily. “Here’s hoping I can find another high-end nightclub here that needs a lead bartender.”

“I’m sure you will.” Duncan patted his shoulder. “Let me know if you need a ride down to the dealership, or if you want to ride the bus. Seacouver Metro’s gotten better in the last decade – they got a huge grant from the two big tech companies in town and it enabled them to upgrade the buses and improve the service.”

Richie’s eyes widened. “Damn, I’ll have to check that out, then. I might be more tempted to ride the bus on rainy and cold days if they actually run to the places I need to go at the times I need.”

Nodding, Duncan said, “Welcome home,” and hugged Richie, a hug the younger immortal returned before stepping back and unpacking.

“I have a question for you. Would you have a problem if Tamika was here overnight?”

Richie grinned, remembering how vocal Duncan’s lovers were. “No. The barge was really the worst, Mac. Once I was in the aft cabin, I had no place to go, since you’d set up your bed in the middle.”

“In hindsight, yes, it was,” he agreed with a laugh. “I kept expecting you to say something, but you never did after that first night, when the motion Tessa and I created was too much for you.”

Richie shrugged. “Wasn’t like I knew where else I could go while I was with staying with you on that barge in Paris. Besides, hearing you with her taught me what good sex sounded like versus the fake shit in porn. Some people might think that’s too much information to know about a friend, but I always figured if it really got to me, I could leave.”

“I hope you find someone who understands you,” Duncan told him sincerely.

“Let me get settled first, and then we’ll talk matchmaking,” Richie countered. He glanced at his watch, seeing it was just after one pm. “Any objection to me raiding the fridge?”

“No, I stocked up yesterday. Help yourself.” Duncan exited the room and went to grab his phone.

Aware she had mentioned having brunch with her best friend, Duncan texted her. _Richie’s home. Did you want to join us for dinner tonight?_

_As long as he’s not expecting anything fancy. Julie and I ate way too much at brunch as usual, and I’m in the mood for teriyaki, the one in the Old Mercantile Building._

_That will be fine,_ Duncan assured her. _Seven work for you?_

 _That will be enough time to be hungry again. I’ll see you then,_ Tamika texted.


	2. Chapter 2

####  _Saturday, July 12_

Richie unpacked his clothes, quickly filling up one side of the closet and half of the drawer space. He had packed his sword, which was now a half-hilt broadsword rapier Amanda had gifted him with as thanks for helping teach Nick, and the main gauche he had taken to carrying, and their respective sheaths, in a special sword case for transit, which protected both weapons from damage. He set his sword and main gauche in their sheaths, hanging both from a footpost.

A waterproof scuba knife went onto one shelf in the shower; Richie had learned it paid to be paranoid. Numerous conversations and time helped Duncan and Richie forge a solid friendship in the wake of the Dark Quickening; Cassandra’s machinations had only brought them closer together. Still, Richie had been attacked in the shower by a headhunting immortal when he had been staying in a hotel on trip to Barcelona. He had survived and taken the headhunter’s head, but the experience had taught him not to take his safety for granted.

The bathroom had a laundry hamper, a touch that made Richie grin, remembering how often he had been guilty of just carrying his clothes to the washer before Tessa had explained the tall, rectangular container’s purpose. Duncan had also put basic toiletries in the bathroom, remembering what Richie’s preferences were although it had been years since they had shared space. Richie stacked his toiletries next to them, smiling briefly as he realized how much his preferences had changed to French brands because they had been easier to buy.

As Richie showered, he wondered what Tamika was like. If she was anything like Duncan’s usual type, she was smart, beautiful, inquisitive, and passionate. Richie hoped she was not so much of a distraction that Duncan could not focus on the looming threat the two headhunters posed. Richie didn’t know the city like he once had, which left him at a disadvantage. He had spent part of the time on the flight studying a map of the city, seeing what had changed since he had been gone, but that didn’t replace a personal survey on two wheels or on foot.

Richie did not pretend to be in Seacouver because he wanted to protect Duncan. Rather, he acknowledged he was enough off balance to need protection. Even if Amanda and Nick had not died permanently, bombing Sanctuary had been a direct attack on the home and business they had built. It had been a long time since Richie had felt that level of grief for what had been. Coming home to Duncan was something Richie sorely needed.

Once, Richie had been determined to beat Duncan MacLeod. That desire had faded, but Richie had also fought enough in the two decades since that awful year to know he was no slouch as a fighter. Amanda’s request to help her with Nick had come when Duncan had been out of her life, and her faith in Richie had gone a long way towards boosting his confidence. Still, Richie knew he was rattled. Dying in the explosion and coming back to life seconds later, trapped under a mountain of broken glass and shocked none of it had sliced his neck, had shaken him. Sheer luck had saved his life, but it had killed the assistant bartender, who had been counting the night’s till. Getting Jérôme’s Quickening, as short-lived as it had been, had left him wishing he had spent more time warning him to avoid things that would decapitate him. Richie had been reluctant to advise Jérôme he was a pre-immortal, certain from the conversations they’d had that Jérôme would see it as permission to be reckless. Jérôme’s Quickening had confirmed that Richie’s reluctance had been well-founded – but it still left Richie aching for the missed opportunity to teach Jérôme how to live as an immortal.

With a sigh, Richie dried himself off and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a green button-down, short-sleeved shirt. He headed for the kitchen; Duncan was on the couch in the living room, reading a tablet. After taking a few minutes to acquaint himself with the layout and contents of the kitchen and pantry, Richie considered his options and how much mess he wanted to make. Deciding he only wanted to slice tomatoes and not cook anything, he made himself a club sandwich.

As Richie made his sandwich, he asked Duncan, “Did you talk to Tamika?”

“She wants to meet her at a teriyaki restaurant at seven-thirty down on the waterfront in the Old Mercantile Building. She works in a building close to there and it’s her favorite teriyaki restaurant in the city.”

“Sounds good.”

“Did you get unpacked?”

“Yeah. I can’t believe I’m back down to what I can fit in three bags.”

Duncan laughed. “I remember when you were astonished you had that much.”

Richie chuckled and put away the ingredients for his club sandwich. He spent a moment to wash the cutting board and the knife he had used. “Yeah, well, it’s been over twenty years since then. Amanda kept giving me stuff – she liked to take me and Nick out on the town every few months.”

Duncan looked at him as Richie bit into the sandwich he made. “No wonder you had people convinced you were involved with them.”

“Yeah, many people assumed we were. Nick’s straight and faithful to Amanda, though he’s open to polyamory as long as she’s honest with him about who it is she wants to take to bed and why. It’s why he always made himself scarce when you visited; he knows you and Amanda have loved each other for centuries.”

“That’s an interesting attitude to take.”

Richie nodded. “More than I thought he would have, given how fixated he had been about how being in the Game meant he couldn’t love her or any other of us.”

Startled, Duncan looked at him. “That’s why Amanda wanted you to convince him – you weren’t her lover. If she had asked me–”

“He wouldn’t have let you get close. Nick was adamant about how he thought the Game put lines between the kind of relationships you could have. He thought the Game meant he couldn’t love Amanda, either. I spent the better part of week convincing him he couldn’t live like that, not if he wanted to stay sane and live to see the next few years.”

Duncan shook his head. “I’m glad he had you, then.” He rose and joined Richie at the breakfast bar. “How comfortable are you with telling people your real age?”

“Mac, I’ve had twenty years of telling people, yes, I look young, and no, I am not nineteen, and figuring out most people don’t pay that close attention. My last lover got off on the fact I looked like jailbait. And frankly, when I’m eighty, I could pass for someone who paid top dollar for cosmetic surgery. I’d rather not lie about my age until I absolutely, positively, have to – and from what Amanda figures, I’ve got another fifty years.”

Duncan studied him. “Tamika doesn’t know about Tessa or Anne, only that I’ve lived here before, and I moved back here five years ago. I told her you had been my ward when you were seventeen.”

“Which means she thinks I’m a hell of a lot younger,” Richie realized. “I’ll fix that. I know the news reported Sanctuary was opened in 1998.” He looked at Duncan. “Are you comfortable talking about Tessa?”

Duncan let out a breath. “I still miss her, Richie. I’m hoping what I have with Tamika can be that lasting.”

“Me too. You don’t do well without a lady in your life to keep you grounded.”

Duncan smiled ruefully. “And good friends. Have you heard from Methos? He’s dropped off the map again.”

“He stopped by in February, congratulated Amanda and Nick on their anniversary, and seemed distracted by politics. Nick told me then he thought the old man was trying to figure out where to run next, since the island he was on was the subject of some contention between two powerful governments.”

“That explains the cryptic email I got in March,” Duncan said. “He said he was going underground for a while and that if I needed him, he would only be available via satellite phone.”

“Not surprising. He told me if he’d known the digital age was the next revolution, he would have never suggested putting the Chronicles on a CD.” Richie shuddered. “We will have to build digital identities and have better stories about why we look so much like our recently deceased selves. That’s why Nick and Amanda are headed to Torago; Nick has a friend there who can hack any system and give them new IDs.”

Duncan nodded in understanding. “Thumb printing used to make me nervous, but the news about facial recognition – I don’t know how we will beat that.”

“Nick thinks it might come down to proving if a still image was faked. I’m more worried about DNA.”

“I talked to Matthew McCormick about that. He says he’s not found any DNA on an immortal corpse that didn’t belong to the victim. His theory is that the Quickening takes it.”

“I sure as hell hope so. We’ll be in a world of hurt if that ever changes.”

Duncan grimaced at the thought. “Before we head down to the restaurant, did you want to reorient your mental map of the city?”

“Sure. Keep in mind, Mac, these two headhunters, if they followed me from Paris, will not respect holy ground. They’ll want to drive us to one so they can blow us up.”

“Let’s narrow down where that could be.” Duncan set his tablet down, which showed a map of the city.

Nodding, Richie continued to eat while Duncan pointed out what was different in the city than the last time Richie had been in it, where they were in relation to what he remembered, and good locations in which to fight. Once Richie had finished his sandwich, he went to take a nap.

Five hours later, Duncan woke him. “It won’t take us long to get to the restaurant, but I thought we could tour the neighborhood, drive around a bit, and put landmarks to the streets we talked about earlier.”

“I’d love that,” Richie agreed.

* * *

Tamika was already in the restaurant when Duncan and Richie entered. As Richie had expected, Tamika was stunningly beautiful. Richie hung back, letting the two lovers greet each other. Tamika sighed into Duncan’s kiss; Richie hid a smile at the predictability of her response. He could tell, however, that Duncan genuinely cared for her, which went a long way in Richie’s head towards separating her from anyone else Duncan had loved before.

“Tamika, this is my friend and former ward, Richie Ryan. As I mentioned, he’s moving back from Paris. Richie, this is Tamika Johnson, my girlfriend and one of the two senior associates at City Architects.”

Richie grinned and shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Duncan told me it was your apartment and workplace that was bombed in Paris, and that you were working for and living with mutual friends,” Tamika exclaimed, looking horrified and sympathetic. “I’m so sorry about your losses.”

“Me too,” Richie told her. “Amanda and Nick were amazing people, but they loved each other very much, and they would feel better knowing I was home again.” Richie hated this charade, but he knew how to play his part. “I’m just grateful I wasn’t hurt more. My assistant bartender, Jérôme, wasn’t so lucky. He died instantly.”

“Have the police found who was responsible?”

Richie shook his head. “No, but I think it was a disgruntled customer; the police called it a suicide bomber. They’re calling it an act of domestic terrorism.” He smiled, as if through grief. “I’d much rather talk about you and how you met Mac.”

“Let’s get food first,” Tamika said, “then we can sit down and talk.”

The teriyaki restaurant was the kind where a patron placed their order at the counter, paid, and then one of the restaurant staff brought out their food. Richie liked the lack of pretension in the restaurant, though he knew he would be hard-pressed to remember its name unless they stood out. Restaurants like it were a dime a dozen in any major Pacific Northwest city, often anchoring small strip malls. Richie remembered stealing and then pawning enough goods to pay for cheap-but-filling meals of chicken teriyaki before meeting Duncan. He couldn’t smell the sauce without being filled with that memory.

Once they had placed their orders, Tamika paid over Duncan’s objections, which made Richie grin.

“You look like you’ve heard him argue this point before,” Tamika noted as they sat down at a table near the door.

“Oh, yeah,” Richie told her. “I can tell you now he will insist on paying if it’s his invitation.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Oh, about five years. He was with someone when he convinced me the way I was headed would result in me either in jail for life or dead.”

Tamika glanced at Duncan. “Your girlfriend was okay with taking on a teenager?”

Duncan and Richie shared a grin. “No, but she took one look at Richie – he was a lot thinner then – and yelled at me for not feeding him first before bringing him home.”

Tamika studied them. “You loved her very much. What was her name?”

“Tessa Noel,” Duncan said. “She was French, a famous metal sculpture artist, very passionate, and she loved Richie like he was her son.”

“What happened?”

“She was murdered,” Duncan said, while Richie looked down at the table. The restaurant staff brought out their meals, and Richie escaped gratefully into eating.

“I’m sorry,” Tamika apologized. “I appear to be sticking my foot into my mouth. Richie, please tell me something you’re looking forward to?”

“Getting a new-to-me motorcycle,” he said, once he had eaten a bite of teriyaki beef. “Yes, I know it’s dangerous, but I also buy high-quality gear and I’ve been riding since I was fourteen. Have you ever ridden one?”

“Once, but I’ve never operated one. I felt like I was going so fast.” She smiled, relieved. “And I just remembered I didn’t answer your question. Duncan and I met because one of my coworkers wanted company to go with her to check out his martial arts studio. She thought if she went alone, she might get hassled about her level of skill or the fact she’s female, even though she’s been practicing judo since she was a kid.”

“Duncan wouldn’t allow someone to be hassled in his dojo,” Richie noted. “Your friend decided after that to act as matchmaker?”

Tamika nodded. “She thought since I had to go to the Seacouver Children’s Charity fundraiser dinner, I shouldn’t go alone, and convinced Duncan to go as my blind date.”

“Best blind date I’ve ever been on,” Duncan interjected. “Besides, it helped one of my favorite charities.”

“I’m never comfortable at those things,” Tamika murmured. “All those rich people, networking, trying to be seen as doing something important, but throwing money at the problem like that alone will fix whatever’s wrong.”

Richie hid a grin, remembering when he had felt that way too. “First time I ever wore a tux, I thought someone could tell that six months earlier, I’d been living on the street. Duncan had to reassure me repeatedly no one would ever know unless I told.”

Tamika smiled. “My dad was in the US Navy. He’s enormously proud of me, but my mom, who’s Japanese, fusses over what’s proper for a lady of my age, like it’s not 2019 and we’re living in Japan. We didn’t have much with my dad being in the military, but my mom did her best to make sure we weren’t hungry or lacking in basic things. I know money isn’t everything, but I still feel vaguely out of place when I’m somewhere where all the people in attendance are rich.”

Richie made sympathetic noises as Duncan assured her she had nothing to worry about, but her comment stuck in his head.

* * *

Tamika refused Duncan’s invitation to stay the night with him, claiming she did not want to interrupt his reunion with Richie. Duncan waited until he and Richie were in his car and driving home from the restaurant to ask, “What did you think of her?”

“She’s worried about not measuring up to some standard she has in her head about how she’s supposed to be,” Richie told him. “That can either go in your favor or it can fuck things up. Have you met her parents yet?”

Duncan shook his head. “Not yet. I’m not worried about meeting them.”

Dryly, Richie noted, “I didn’t think you would be. But if you haven’t met them by Thanksgiving, I’d wonder if she doesn’t want you to meet them at all.”

Duncan considered the idea as he crossed the city to get home. “I don’t get the sense I’m some kind of rebellion she’s having against her parents, if that’s what you’re thinking. She’s thirty-three; she’s been in two serious relationships before me.”

“Okay, but she said something tonight that makes me wonder if she’s going to ever be comfortable with how much you really can afford to spend on living and dining out. You taught me how to move in high society, how to be comfortable with people who’d drop three figures on a bottle of wine, how to drink from said bottle of wine without choking on the taste or the price, and how to gracefully tell someone that bottle of wine sucked ass, especially given the price. I can’t see her ever being that comfortable without getting hung up on ‘you served me a glass of $300 wine.’”

Duncan sighed. “Which means the high-end restaurant I took her to for her promotion was definitely a mistake, and one I can’t repeat.”

“And you like the finer things,” Richie noted. “You enjoy being able to have that expensive wine, to enjoy a five-course meal in a high-end restaurant. You work hard for that. You don’t take it for granted, mind, but you do expect your friends and your lovers to be able to dine with you in those places and not freak out over the prices. How long before you tire of cooking at home, eating at cheap restaurants, and avoiding getting dressed up?”

Duncan glanced at Richie. “How long was it before Tessa and I took you to dinner at a fancy restaurant?”

“Less than two weeks. You took me to that tailor and had me fitted out for a full wardrobe like something out of a movie.”

“Do you think I’m unreasonable for wanting to enjoy my success?”

“Mac, you’ve had, what, centuries of working to this point? In that context, no. She doesn’t know that, or that you still remember being poor and breathing in peat smoke. Tamika’s still trying to get to a point where both of her parents are proud of her success. You said she just was promoted – that means she has more responsibility than she had before, and even if she thinks she deserved that promotion, she probably feels like she has something to prove now. Like I said, I don’t know if that’s going to be a problem for you going forward, but it’s something to think about. If nothing else, she might feel she needs to spend more time working. My last boyfriend used that excuse once too often before I figured out it was an excuse, but I think you get my point.”

“Maybe I should just find another struggling artist to date,” Duncan half-joked. “Someone who wouldn’t mind having a patron to help them like Tessa did.”

Richie shook his head. “You’re too interested in Tamika to consider anyone else now.”

Duncan acknowledged that with a rueful nod as he waited to make a left turn.

Richie waited until after Duncan had made the turn to add, “She struck me as cautious and caring. But here’s something else to think about, that she’ll ask you about at some point, if she’s like my last boyfriend. You say nothing about going to see doctors and dentists, about worrying about health care costs except in relation to people you know,” Richie said. “That kind of omission can lead an observant person to wonder if there’s more you aren’t saying. Does she even know about Joe?”

“I took her to meet him last month,” Duncan admitted. “She told me afterwards she hadn’t been a fan of blues music, but his playing convinced her to do more research.”

“Does Joe like her?”

“He said she seemed nice, if a little stiff and uncomfortable in an unfamiliar place. That’s what got me thinking maybe I wasn’t ready to tell her everything.”

Richie shrugged. “Your call, Mac, but if the headhunters in Paris are headed here – and I can’t see why they wouldn’t be – she might find out the hard way, like Anne did. I’d rather you told her about us before that happens. What will you do if they kidnap Tamika to get to you?”

Duncan grimaced at that reminder of that possibility. “I’ll think about it.”

Certain Duncan would not change his mind, Richie dropped the subject.


	3. Chapter 3

Two weeks later, the headhunters, Jason King and Charles de Brisay, showed up. They tried luring Duncan out of the house with a spoofed call claiming that they had kidnapped Tamika and Richie – an impossibility, given that both them were in the house. When that plan failed, the headhunters tried to go after Joe, only to be foiled by Richie’s Watcher, Nathan. Desperate, the headhunters then turned to Duncan’s business, trying to set it on fire – but Richie had gone to the studio to take advantage of Duncan’s hospitality to work out in the space after hours. Richie extinguished the flame and trapped the fleeing headhunter, Jason King, before he could get too far. His Quickening led Richie and Duncan to Charles De Brisay, who claimed he had tried to argue against the hunt.

Armed with the truth from the Quickening he had taken, Richie challenged Charles. “Yeah, right. You set the others up to take the fall first. You befriended Laurene, wanting a woman who could fight. You killed Jason because he was following you, and convinced him to kill Madeleine, so you could have two pet Watchers loyal to you. You thought Connor would take mercy on a woman, so you sent Laurene to fight him. You thought I was living on holy ground because I was weak and scared.”

“Then why were you?” Charles drawled.

“Because my friends had the best damn nightclub in Paris, and I wanted to work for them there.”

Charles’s eyes widened. “I thought you were still running from the Highlanders.”

Richie laughed. “Not in over twenty years, you idiot. You want my head, come get it.”

Charles then tried to cheat, firing a spear gun at Richie and killing him – but Richie had warned Duncan the headhunter would try that tactic. Duncan killed Charles without regret.

Once the Quickening was over, Duncan took several moments to remove the spear from Richie’s chest. Richie revived with a groan.

“I liked this shirt,” Richie mourned as he looked at the hole, but he took the hand up Duncan offered. “You okay?”

Duncan nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go home and get some rest.”

* * *

The next afternoon, Duncan was surprised to see Tamika at his martial arts studio. “Tamika! Did Richie tell you someone tried to commit arson?”

“No,” Tamika said, “but I had a strange visitor at my office yesterday, who tried to claim he was representing some French charity that doesn’t exist. He made my front desk assistant uncomfortable, and when she refused to let him see me, he swore vividly at her, claiming she was a damned immortal worshipper. He claimed I should ask you about them. I had building security escort him out, and they took a photo of him.” Tamika showed Duncan the image she had obtained, which turned out to match Charles.

The Quickening Duncan had taken told him that Charles had intended to get to Tamika and use her as bait, but his inability to get to her directly had saved her.

“I don’t know who that is,” Duncan lied. “But I’m sure he’s no one to be concerned with. I don’t know what he meant by ‘immortal worshippers’ – I’m Catholic. If he shows up again, I’d call the police.”

“That’s what I told Amy,” Tamika said, relieved. “Amy was afraid it was some kind of racial thing.”

“Could be,” Duncan offered noncommittally. “I’m just trying to clean up after someone tried to burn this place down. Thankfully, Richie caught it in time before it could spread, but-” he pointed to the hole in the floor – “now I have to patch that piece of hardwood until I can get a professional in to redo the floor.”

“Oh no! Wait, how did Richie know to expect an arsonist?”

Duncan shrugged. “He didn’t. He just figured if someone had targeted him in Paris, they might try again here.”

“But why? I thought he said it was a suicide bomber. He was a bartender.”

“He also ran with a gang when he was younger, the kind of gang that’s hard to leave. Some people won’t let him forget where he came from.”

“Well, that’s not right!” Tamika exclaimed, buying the excuse. “How is a person supposed to become a functioning part of society if they aren’t allowed to put the mistakes they made as a teenager behind them?!” Indignant, Tamika looked at Duncan.

Relieved she had bought the lie, Duncan turned her attention away from the problem, distracting her with a kiss and the promise of an early dinner.

The next morning, Duncan met with Richie for breakfast at the coffee shop in the same strip mall as the dojo.

“We got lucky, Mac,” Richie noted after Duncan relayed Tamika’s near-meeting with Charles. “How much more do you want to push that luck?”

“Tamika’s not ready,” Duncan argued.

“Mac, nobody’s ever ready to learn about immortals,” Richie noted dryly, rolling his eyes, “or the price tag we pay for it.”

Duncan compressed his lips unhappily.

“Besides, weren’t you the one who taught me what matters more is how the people we love react the life we live?” Richie prodded. “Or are you out of the habit? I know you haven’t been with someone mortal in a long time.”

Duncan sighed. “It’s not that I’m out of the habit, Richie. It’s just – I’m not sure if she knows what she wants. Does she want me? Does she want her career more?”

“Will you care for her any less if she chooses her career?” Richie countered. “Mac, the only way you’ll know if she can hack being with you is to tell her, before your luck runs out. You and I both remember that August in this city is always when the headhunters trickle in, trying to see if they can take our heads.”

“You think if she knows ahead of time, she might be better able to handle things.”

“At the very least, she won’t be as angry with you for not telling her she could be in danger,” Richie pointed out. “Look, you’ll do what you always do regardless of what I say. All I’m asking is you consider the risk factors for Tamika finding out the hard way and then not wanting to be with you at all are going up the longer you say nothing.” Richie took a breath. “Like I told you a few weeks ago, you do better when you have someone in your life.”

Duncan let out a breath. “I’ll think about it. How’s the job search going?”

“Interview on Tuesday, another on Wednesday,” Richie told him. “Looks like I timed this right. If all goes well, I should be employed by late August.”

Duncan high-fived him. “Any problems with people asking you about what happened in Paris?”

“Not yet. Amanda set it up so anyone needing employment verification gets an answering service instructed to answer only specific questions, nothing more.”

Duncan’s eyes widened. “She thought of that?”

“No, Nick did. He’s paranoid, an ex-cop, and if he was sitting here, he’d ask you why you’re so insistent on not trusting your girlfriend with who you are. I’m not worried about getting a job, and neither are you. If Joe could pay me what I want, I’d have a permanent job with him, but he doesn’t get the traffic to justify hiring a guy like me.”

“Would you tell Tamika, if you had the choice?” Duncan challenged.

Richie met his gaze. “Charles would have kidnapped her, Mac. The fact he didn’t succeed is a testament to City Architects’ screening and front office practices. If he had been more charming, we would be having a different conversation. Do I think we should tell her? Absolutely. Because the longer we wait, the more likely someone else will – or we’ll have tell her, and I’d rather control the narrative while we can. I’ve thought about this a lot over the years. Tessa had years to get used to you being immortal – years in which the Game was not the threat it was in the late ‘90’s or the beginning of this century. We’re coming up on the end of the decade, which usually means an increase in headhunters, if what happened in 2009 is anything to judge by. Wasn’t that the year you decided moving somewhere no one expected you to be would be better?”

Knowing he was right, Duncan sat back in his seat and sipped his coffee. “Yes. Damn it. When did you pay attention to patterns?”

“Mac, in case it somehow escaped your notice, I just spent twenty years on the best holy ground on the planet, with one of our kind’s oldest immortals and her paranoid, ex-cop lover. When we first opened the club, none of us could leave the building without someone wanting to either talk to us or challenge us. Nick figured out how to predict when we’d get attacked most – and that analysis meant we knew when we could leave the safety of Sanctuary and when we’d need extra security. It took him three years to gather the data, but he kept refining it. We weren’t surprised Madeleine attacked us, Mac. Our mistake was thinking she wouldn’t bomb us.”

Duncan blinked at that and reconsidered his position. “I hear what you’re saying, Richie, but I keep circling back to Tamika. I don’t know what she wants more – me, her career, or both.” Duncan met Richie’s gaze. “But I know I don’t want to walk away from her.”

“When is your next date?”

“Tomorrow night. We’re seeing a movie and then having dinner afterward.” Duncan looked at Richie. “Were you planning on going out?”

“Yeah. Did you want me to leave you two alone? I can make myself scarce if you need me to.” Richie flashed him a smile. “There are few clubs I wouldn’t mind cruising.”

“Don’t stay out on my account,” Duncan told him. “And I make no promises on telling Tamika. It really depends on what she wants to do with her life. You’re right – when Tessa and I met, she was still figuring out what she wanted to do with her career. I didn’t tell her about the Game until the night you and I met, though.”

Richie stared at him. “You kept that from her that long?!?”

Ruefully, Duncan acknowledged, “It was easier when it was one or two challenges a year. Connor told me I was crazy for keeping it from her that long, especially since he got to witness her going off on both of us for not telling her.”

“The Game hasn’t been like that – at least, not for me.”

“Tokyo was quiet,” Duncan offered. “But you’re right – it’s been heating up here, too.” He looked away for a moment, torn between learning from his mistakes and his need for secrecy. “Let me think about it more. You busy today?”

“Yeah, I promised Joe I’d fill in on the swing shift tonight; one of his bartenders called in sick. I also promised Angie I’d run by her office and run interference for her with a client before I head over to Joe’s.”

“Everything okay?” Duncan asked, concerned.

Richie shook his head, grimacing. With help from Richie and Duncan, Angie Burke, Richie’s childhood friend, had pursued her dreams and become a lawyer, specializing in family law. “Guy got a divorce with Angie’s help and now thinks Angie’s the perfect woman for him.”

“Got it. Well, good luck with that. I’ll see you late tonight, then?”

“Should be home around nine; I told Joe I didn’t want to work all night.”

“See you then.”


	4. Chapter 4

####  _Saturday, August 3_

“You seem distracted,” Tamika noted the following evening as they cuddled on the couch at Duncan’s house and finished the last of the bottle of wine Duncan had opened to serve with dinner. He had cooked salmon, asparagus, and potatoes in parchment, with seasoned couscous, wanting to give her a gourmet meal without making her feel uncomfortable by taking her to an upscale restaurant. “Dinner was delicious – I would have never thought to make salmon that way.”

Duncan smiled quickly, abruptly nervous. Somehow, this part never got easier. “We’ve been together for a few months now, and I’ve been wondering…now that you’ve gotten promoted, do you see your career as taking precedence over anything else in your life?”

Tamika sipped her wine before she answered. “I don’t want it to be the only thing,” she told Duncan. “I advocate for work-life balance at City Architects, but I also know that being a leader means I will have to put in 45-50-hour weeks. There just aren’t enough hours in a normal workday to accomplish everything.”

“If you could do anything, money no object, what would it be?”

Tamika chuckled. “Probably exactly the same thing I’ve been doing – work as an architect for one of the city’s best firms, volunteer my time and money to help women and minorities and the less privileged, spend time with friends and family.”

Duncan smiled. “No grand dreams to paint or sky dive?”

She laughed. “I never was someone who had a bucket list of things they wanted to do before they died. I want to visit some of the grand structures in the world, see the pyramids, the Eiffel Tower, places like that, but other than that?” She shrugged. “I’d like to go visit the town where my mom was born and take her on that trip with me. I think when I can do that, she’ll believe I’m actually successful. I’ve started planning that trip; I want to do it while she can still take it.”

Duncan took a breath. “And where do I fit in your life?” he asked quietly.

Startled, Tamika jerked back slightly and looked at him. Her eyes narrowed as she considered the question. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re asking, Duncan.”

“Is all you want is someone who can give you a fun time?” he asked, meeting her eyes. “Because I’m falling in love with you, Tamika, and I need to know if you want someone who wants a long-term relationship, or if you’re content with something less.”

“Less?” Confused, Tamika shook her head. “What would be the difference?”

“Difference would be the rules we abide by. If you aren’t interested in a long-term relationship, Tamika, I won’t ask you for one. We can still see each other, have dinner, but it’ll be according to your terms.”

Horrified by that notion, Tamika stared at him. “That sounds like all I want you for is a booty call and an occasional date.”

Duncan shrugged. “Some people prefer that.”

“Well, that’s a ton of crap,” Tamika declared. “I don’t date people with the intent of just getting laid. I’m usually thinking long-term right from the start.”

Duncan let go of the breath he had been unconsciously holding.

“Is that why you’re nervous?” she demanded. “I rarely see you like that. You’re usually so composed and calm. You thought I might want to prioritize my career over being with you?”

Not trusting his voice, he swallowed before he said, “One of my ex-girlfriends did.”

“Well, lucky me, she was an idiot,” Tamika declared and leaned over to kiss Duncan.

* * *

####  _Sunday, August 4, early morning_

Tamika jerked awake, startled by a sudden loss of warmth beside her. Blinking, she reached over and turned on the light, only to see that Duncan had left the bed. Curious, Tamika put on her nightgown and her robe, and walked out to see what was going on.

Richie swore profusely as Duncan helped him into the house. To her shock, Richie looked like he had been in an accident. He was limping, and his motorcycle gear was torn and bloodied. With Duncan’s help, Richie made his way to the guest bedroom, then shut the door.

* * *

In the guest bedroom, Richie stood patiently, grimacing through the pain. Richie had slung his sword sheath across his body as a temporary measure to get it into the house. Now Duncan took Richie’s sword, set it on the floor, then helped him peel off the gear and clothes he wore before they could stick any further to him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Duncan asked, concerned as the pattern of healing and lightning revealed Richie had been gravely injured. His chest and left side had been crushed. The fact he was standing was a testament to his resilience and the time he had spent playing the Game; a younger, less experienced immortal would still lie dead on the street.

In French, Duncan ordered, “And tell me in French; I don’t want Tamika listening to this.”

Richie grimaced at the reminder he needed to be discreet. Still, he answered Duncan in French, “Some idiot forgot to stop for a red light and hit me. Tossed me off my motorcycle and into the next lane, but not before the same idiot ran me over. My motorcycle is toast.”

Duncan set the pile of damaged gear and ruined clothing to one side. “We’ll go retrieve it in the morning.”

“Nathan already called in a tow,” Richie told Duncan, referring to his Watcher, “and drove me home.”

Duncan bit back a sigh. “No else saw?”

“Nathan said if I hadn’t called him, he wouldn’t know anything had happened. That intersection is known for hit-and-run accidents. I didn’t want to wake you, Mac.”

“Too late,” the older immortal reminded him. He studied the pattern of healing. “You’ll be fine by morning, but you’d better shower before you crawl into bed or you’ll stain the sheets with blood and dirt. I’ll take you to get new gear tomorrow. If the shop can’t repair your motorcycle, I’ll pay for a new one.” Richie protested, but Duncan held up a hand.

“I know you; you’ve always run lean with your funds, and buying that motorcycle took a chunk out of your savings. Consider it an early birthday present.”

“Thanks, Mac. What about Tamika? I think we woke her.”

Duncan grimaced. “I’ll handle her. Was it one of us?”

Richie shook his head. “Had no warning if it was.” He bit back a groan as his ribs finished healing.

“Go slowly and drink plenty of water,” Duncan recommended, switching back to English. “I’ll check on you in the morning.”

“Thanks.” Richie offered him a weary smile.

* * *

In the living room, Tamika stopped, frowning as she heard Duncan and Richie stop talking in English. She took a minute to parse the language as French, though she did not understand a word they said. It made sense to her that, when tired, Richie would revert to French, given how long he had spent in that country. Still, she fretted, wondering why they did not seem in a hurry to go to an emergency room. As far as she knew, Duncan was not a trained medical professional. Only her natural inclination not to interrupt when a door was shut made her stay where she was, but she stood, torn between wanting to know and wanting to help.

* * *

Duncan stepped out of Richie’s room to find Tamika in the living room, looking concerned.

“Is Richie all right? I heard you talking in – was that French?”

Duncan nodded. “I asked him questions in French because it helps me figure out if he has a concussion. He’s a little shaken up, but he’ll be fine in the morning once he’s slept,” Duncan assured her. “Some idiot hit him while he was on his motorcycle. Motorcycle is in the shop, but all Richie’s gear did its job protecting him.”

“He looked like he was seriously hurt,” Tamika murmured. “Are you sure he’s fine and doesn’t need a hospital?” She started for Richie’s room, only to find her way blocked by Duncan.

“I’m sure,” Duncan said firmly. “I’ve had medic training. Right now, he wants to be alone so he can get some rest.”

Tamika frowned, not believing Duncan’s words, but willing to let it lie for going back to sleep.

The next morning, she was surprised to see Richie in the kitchen, making pancakes and bacon. A small stack of pancakes and bacon strips were already on a platter beside the stove. The tank top and shorts he wore revealed he had taped his left knee with athletic tape, but he had no visible bruises or other injuries. She thought nothing of the large chef knife’s he had set to one side of the stove, assuming he either had been using it or intended to use it for something later.

“Are you okay? I saw you come in last night,” Tamika exclaimed.

“I’m a little sore but I’m otherwise fine,” Richie assured her as he expertly flipped pancakes. “I have to replace my gear and get my motorcycle repaired, but as motorcycle accidents go, I’m very grateful I didn’t skip on protecting myself.”

“What’s the tape for?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Oh – just to remind me I don’t push myself,” he said awkwardly. “Good thing I don’t have a job yet; I’d have to call in sick.”

“I thought Duncan said you were working at that blues club your friend owns – Joe’s.”

“Only as a fill-in. Joe would love to hire me but I’m too expensive. Most lead bartenders around here make real minimum wage plus tips and have a full compensation package, which he can’t afford. My deal with him is I’ll pick up a shift or two in exchange for straight tips. Do you want two pancakes or three?”

“Two, please, and two pieces of bacon.”

Richie grabbed a plate from the stack beside the stove and filled it with the requested food. “I put maple syrup and butter on the table.”

“Thanks,” Tamika said. “I guess you being sore means you won’t be joining Duncan out in the backyard doing his exercises.”

Richie flashed her a smile. He turned off the stove and helped himself to four pancakes and the same number of bacon strips before joining her at the table, taking the chef’s knife with him. “No, but I did some stretching earlier, which is how I figured out I should tape my knee.”

Tamika took a bite of the pancakes. “These are incredible, so fluffy and rich,” she told Richie. “I don’t think I’ve had pancakes that taste like these.”

“They’re ricotta pancakes.”

“They’re very decadent. Did Duncan teach you to cook?”

“Yeah, him and Tessa,” Richie said with a nod. “Tessa thought it was criminal I didn’t know how to boil water. She insisted on teaching me her family recipes.”

Tamika looked surprised. “No one ever taught you to cook?”

“Not before Tessa and Mac, no. I was one of those angry foster kids, convinced no one gave a damn about me.” Richie could tell she did not understand what growing up in foster care meant. “I fully expected to age out of the system when I was eighteen and be like everyone else I knew, which was in trouble and in and out of jail, since I didn’t know how I could succeed at anything else.”

“That sounds…horrible,” Tamika exclaimed. She studied him. “But you didn’t go that route.”

Richie barked a laugh. “No. When Tessa died, I fully expected Duncan to kick me to the curb – but he didn’t. We sold the antique store and the apartment above it where we’d been living, because Tessa did her welding for her sculpture art in the shop space next to the antique store and it had been her dream to reopen it. I was shocked and relieved when Duncan gave me a job in the gym he bought and a room of my own in the new apartment.”

“And you’ve been living with him on and off ever since,” Tamika murmured before taking a bite of her breakfast.

Richie nodded. “In the last several years, it’s mostly been when I’ve gone to visit him, since I had an apartment in Sanctuary. Because of the way I grew up, it means a lot to me to know I’ll always have a home with him, wherever he goes.”

“I can see that,” Tamika said with a nod. “I can’t remember – what did you say your role was at Sanctuary?”

“Lead bartender,” Richie told her. “Sanctuary was a high-end nightclub; besides featuring a live DJ, it had a fully equipped kitchen, so you could drink, eat, and dance the night away. My job was to act as bar manager. That meant I had to order all the liquor; train all bartenders; oversee the security and bar staff; develop and enforce customer service standards; and organize and coordinate all special events. I also worked with the kitchen manager to develop specialty cocktails for the featured dinner specials. If a bartender had a problem with a customer and wanted to talk to a manager, that problem customer became mine to deal with.”

Tamika blinked. “I had no idea that job had so many responsibilities!”

Richie smiled. “Most people don’t. I reported to Nick, who was the operations manager and its co-owner; Amanda was also co-owner, but she found the day-to-day business boring.”

“In terms of what you’re looking for in your next job, do you want a similar position?”

“Yes. I love the responsibility and challenge, and now I know how it make it work, I want to do again.” Abruptly, he rose, taking the chef’s knife with him, a movement that made Tamika realize he had not used it at the table.

Duncan stepped into the house then, kissing Tamika hello before asking Richie, “Did you save some for me?”

“Bacon’s already done, but I saved some batter; I can make fresh pancakes for you,” Richie offered, and quickly cleaned the chef’s knife, setting it in the dish drainer by the sink. Tamika realized he must have meant to wash it but forgot in favor of eating first. She put the knife out of her mind.

“In that case, I’ll go shower,” Duncan said. “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll take three pancakes.”

“Perfect; that’ll be enough time to heat the pan and make them.”

Duncan shot him a smile of gratitude before exiting the dining room. Richie rose, turned on the stove, and finished eating before cooking again.

Tamika ate the rest of her breakfast as she considered what Richie had told her. “What do you say to people who think you should do something more than bartending?”

“I tell them I love what I’m doing. I don’t need a lot of money to live and be happy. Maybe in a few years, I’ll want to do something else, but until then,” he shrugged, “I won’t worry about it.”

* * *

Wanting to distract Tamika, Richie turned the conversation to her. “What do you enjoy about architecture?”

“I was that little girl who wanted to build things and was always drawing buildings,” Tamika told him, chuckling. “My dad was an engineer with the US Navy, and he encouraged me to design things. My mom hated it because I didn’t want to play house – I wanted to build them.”

Richie shot her a grin before returning his focus to cooking pancakes. “Do your parents live nearby?”

“Yes, they’re in Tacoma. My dad’s retired, and my mom volunteers once a week at the hospital down there. They wish I lived there instead of here.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want them popping into where I worked,” Tamika said ruefully. “This way, they’d have to think about driving north an hour and since my mom doesn’t like to drive very far, it would be more of a trip than they want to do a few times a year.”

“They would be that intrusive?” Richie asked in surprise.

“My parents have this notion that whatever I do has to meet with their approval, even though I’m over eighteen and have been living on my own since I was nineteen. They’ve been pushing for me to introduce them to Duncan, but I don’t want them to tell me I can’t see him anymore, like they’ve done with everyone I’ve ever dated. My mom is Japanese and even though she’s lived in the US since I was born, she still clings to her culture and the traditions she grew up with; my dad is the one who has to remind her that some of those things don’t work here. I don’t know who would be good enough, honestly.”

“Someone they picked out for you,” Richie guessed. “And maybe not even then.”

Tamika chuckled ruefully. “Probably. You sound like you’ve experienced it from the other side.”

“Yeah, that was not fun,” Richie commiserated. “Though it amuses me now to know my oldest friend is someone Duncan tried to tell me to avoid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Angie and I were in the same gang before I met Duncan. He thought she was trouble, since she was also, by then, an ex-girlfriend and still in the gang, and she had come to me for help with a problem. Now she’s one of the best family lawyers in the city.”

“I can see where he might be concerned the gang might tempt you to go back,” Tamika noted. “Were you ever?”

Richie shook his head. “Not when I was terrified of losing the life Duncan and Tessa were giving me. I convinced Angie to get out before what was left of the gang ruined her life; they were getting involved with people who were into manufacturing and distributing illegal drugs. Neither of us have any regrets about leaving that life behind.”

“I can imagine, given those circumstances.”

Ten minutes later, the pancakes were done. Richie helped himself to a second helping while Duncan took his share of breakfast.

“Hungry this morning?” Tamika noted, surprised.

“No, this is normal,” Richie said. “I eat a lot. Mac, did you want the maple syrup?”

“Yes, please,” Duncan replied, and took the offered jar of syrup.

Once he had eaten several bites of breakfast, he turned to Tamika. “I know you wanted to go to the art museum today, but I promised Richie I’d take him to get new motorcycle gear and check on his motorcycle. You’re welcome to join us.”

Tamika considered the offer. “I’ve never shopped for that kind of stuff,” she noted. “It sounds interesting, and I’d love to go.”

Duncan smiled, relieved. To Richie, he asked, “Did Nathan tell you where he took your motorcycle?”

Richie nodded. “He texted me this morning; it’s over at Seacouver Motoplex on Aurora.”

“Who’s Nathan?” Tamika wondered.

“Friend who helped get me home last night,” Richie told her. “Didn’t want to bother Mac since I figured he was with you.”

Tamika’s eyes widened at his consideration. Before she could speak, however, Duncan asked, “Do you know if that dealership has what you want?”

“Last time I was in, they did,” Richie replied. “If not, I’ll have to order it online. I’d rather not go to Cycle & Gear if I can help it.”

“How come?” Tamika asked.

“Because the last time I was in, just browsing to see what they had, the sales staff treated me like I was a punk-ass thief.” Richie shared a look with Duncan, remembering when that attitude had been called for. “I haven’t been a punk-ass thief since Mac caught me trying to steal from his antique store.”

“A part of me wants to go there just to see if we get treated different,” Tamika murmured. “I never could resist poking at that sort of thing.”

Richie shook his head. “Let’s not. I’d like to avoid getting into trouble today.”

“Agreed,” Duncan said with finality.

* * *

Richie went over to the service counter for the multi-brand motorcycle dealership. His sword hid in the backpack he carried, which also held a change of clothes. The backpack had originally been designed for a motorcycle rider to carry a helmet and clothing; Richie had added a cross-body sheath that made the handle of his sword look like it was a decorative feature, without compromising the integrity or functionality of the backpack.

The clerk behind the counter looked up the status of his repair and blanched.

“You were riding that last night?” the clerk asked. “We were all convinced someone was dead.”

“No, I was wearing full protection,” Richie told her, though he knew the truth: he had suffered a broken leg and crushed ribs, and had died briefly. He did not need the athletic tape on his knee except as a visible prop. “I was a bit in a shock, though. Don’t know how bad I damaged the motorcycle, especially since it was dark.”

“Mr. Ryan, that motorcycle isn’t repairable. We can write up an estimate for your insurance and submit it to them for you, but our service techs won’t touch it.”

Richie sighed; he had suspected as much. “Write it up so I can submit the claim, please.”

The clerk nodded, and then asked for Richie’s insurance information so she could send the claim directly. Richie provided that info as Duncan walked up to him.

“Total loss?” Duncan asked, and Richie nodded.

Duncan winced sympathetically. “I know you hate to be without transportation. If there’s a used motorcycle here that you like, I can get it for you. Like I told you earlier, we can call it an early birthday present.”

“Don’t want to make Tamika wait too much,” Richie pointed out.

“I’ll talk to her,” Duncan assured him. “If it’s too much for her, I’ll take her home.”

Richie bit his lip, hesitating. “I’ll pay you back when I get the payout from the insurance.”

Duncan shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I haven’t spent money on you in a while; you’re overdue.”

Richie barked a laugh and surrendered. He knew better than to protest his former teacher’s largesse, especially since it had been several years since he had benefited from it. “Okay, Mac.” To the clerk, he asked, “Do you need anything else from me?”

The clerk smiled. “No, I have your contact info, your insurance info, and we’re set. The used bikes are in the corner opposite here. Have fun!”

Duncan and Richie headed to the used motorcycles section. To Richie’s delight, three of the motorcycles were of the type he preferred. He preferred a touring motorcycle, one that allowed him to sit upright and not leaned over the engine, with saddlebags and a backrest that allowed him to either have a passenger comfortably on the pillion seat or attach luggage.

Tamika found them ten minutes later, debating whether three hundred dollars was worth having the color he liked, even though it also came with a piss-poor excuse of a windshield.

“That doesn’t look like it would be comfortable,” Tamika noted, once she understood the discussion.

Richie glanced at her as he sat on the bike. “It’s not, especially on wet and wintry days.” He rose, having decided which ones he wanted to test ride, and flagged down the salesman.

An hour later, he had chosen a candy red 2014 Honda CTX1300 Deluxe. The motorcycle had been loaded with accessories, including a taller windshield, heated grips, fog lamps, ABS, and a passenger backrest. He also bought a new helmet, motorcycle jacket, gloves, overpants, and boots. Duncan paid for it all without protest.

Richie hugged him in gratitude. “Thanks, Mac.”

“Go, get yourself geared up, take it all for a ride through the hills. I’ll meet you at home,” Duncan encouraged. His eyes met Richie’s. “I know how much you treasure being able to do that. Don’t crash it or get in trouble.”

Richie grinned. “I won’t. See you in an hour. Thanks for helping out, Tamika.” He surprised her by hugging her quickly, then taking the pile of gear off to one side. After borrowing a pair of scissors from the cashier, he dealt with all the product tags and boxes, then quickly put on the motorcycle gear, including the helmet. His backpack went onto his back, over the motorcycle jacket. With a wave, he headed out to the parking lot, mounted his new motorcycle, and left.

Tamika followed Duncan out to his car, then got into it. “That’s very generous, what you just did,” she noted after Duncan pulled out of the parking lot. “Most people wouldn’t purchase a new motorcycle after they were hit.”

“It represents freedom to Richie,” Duncan told her. “He was riding illegally and without a driver’s license when we met; he told me then it meant he could go, without having to abide by bus schedules. Back then, Seacouver Metro Transit was not that great a transit service. Since then, Richie’s ridden down the West Coast, through Central America, up through northern Africa, and through most of Europe. I trust him to handle himself on a motorcycle, though I worry more when he’s riding in rain, snow, and ice.”

Tamika blinked at that. “He’d ride in that weather?”

“He told me once given the choice of freezing on his motorcycle or freezing while waiting for a bus, he’d rather freeze on his motorcycle. At least then he was headed somewhere. I told him freezing was freezing and not to be an idiot.”

Tamika chuckled. “I can see his point about wanting to be going somewhere.” Curious, she asked, “You aren’t worried something like last night would happen again and you’d be out all that money?”

“Of course, I worry, but as long as I can afford to give it to Richie, I don’t mind. If it happened again, I’d be more worried about him, and then why and how it happened.”

Tamika nodded in understanding. “You’re the first boyfriend I’ve ever had who had such a close relationship with someone like what you have with Richie. I’ve had no one like that in my life.”

“My family raised me to be the clan leader,” Duncan told her, choosing his words carefully. “Friends matter a lot to me because of that upbringing. Did you want to get lunch on the way home? We have enough time we can probably still do the art museum, too.”

“Lunch sounds good, but let’s skip the art museum. I’d rather sit and watch a movie with you at home.”

Duncan flashed her a smile; he was certain they would discard the movie for other, more intimate entertainment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up sometime this weekend. Who's rooting for Tamika?


	5. Chapter 5

####  _Thursday, August 15_

One thing Duncan liked about his current dojo’s location was that it was in a diverse strip mall, with more than the Pacific Northwest stereotypical teriyaki restaurant, dry cleaners, and nail and hair salon as its core tenants. Besides the dojo and those other businesses, the strip mall also housed three other restaurants – one Thai, the other Mexican, and the last a gastropub; a walk-in clinic, a bank, a coffee shop, and a financial services office. It sat on a major intersection in an area that had undergone redevelopment, which was one reason Duncan had put his business there.

As he had had a lunchtime class to teach, Duncan opted to take his lunch late, at the Thai restaurant next door to the dojo. He was seated at a window seat near the door, eating, when he heard a woman’s voice call his name. Looking up, he saw a woman he had loved.

Anne Lindsey stood by his table, looking faintly nervous. Two decades of life were etched on her heart-shaped face, but she still exuded the competence that had first attracted her to Duncan. She had grown out her black hair; it was down past her shoulders. She wore a white lab coat embroidered with her name, position as chief trauma surgeon, and Seacouver General. Abruptly, Duncan remembered the walk-in clinic was part of Seacouver General’s medical system.

“Um, hi,” she said. “I saw you here and felt it would be weird not to say hello.”

“Hello, Anne,” he greeted, and rose to hug her.

She waved off the wordless offer. “No need. I’ve been helping at the clinic all morning; you really don’t want to be hugging me.”

He arched an eyebrow. “On the contrary. I’m one of the few you could safely hug.”

Anne’s eyes widened as she belatedly remembered he was immortal. She took a deep breath. “In that case, can I have a hug? I know it’s been ages since we’ve talked, but I could use one. It’s been a horrible morning.”

Duncan hugged her without hesitation. She lingered in the embrace a moment before nodding and stepping back. “Thanks. I, uh, forgot how good you hug.”

He offered her a brief smile. “Want to talk about it?”

“Much as I’d like to vent – no." She hesitated when she saw Duncan's look of compassion. "Actually, yes. I hate it when people who should go to the ER go to urgent care instead and waste precious time they can’t afford to lose.”

Duncan grimaced, understanding she had lost a patient. “I’m sorry. Why don’t you take a few minutes and join me?”

“I’d love that. I came in here to grab lunch but didn’t want to eat alone.” Anne sat down on the other side of the booth.

“I didn’t think you worked the clinics anymore.”

Anne smiled sheepishly. “I’m trying something new this year. A speaker at a conference I went to last year talked about how the urgent care clinics were facing crises they weren’t designed to address, so I’ve been rotating through the Seacouver Medical System’s clinics twice a month to see if I can make a difference.” She shrugged. “Some days I feel like I’m trying to carry a bowling ball in a wet paper bag.”

The server stopped by to inquire about Anne’s order; she rattled off a request for coffee. That task complete, Anne turned to Duncan. “I see you have a dojo here. How is it doing?”

“Very well,” Duncan replied. “Most of my classes are full, and I hired a new instructor to help with the classes, since Richie isn’t interested in teaching or working for me.”

“Please tell me he wasn’t in that pub that was bombed in Paris,” Anne blurted as the server delivered her drink.

Duncan grinned. “His luck’s never been that good. How’s Mary?”

Anne smiled, thinking of her daughter, whom Duncan and Richie had helped deliver. “Working as a pharmacist for a long-term care facility and loving it. I could never stop her from wanting to mix things up.” She studied Duncan. “I tried to send you and Richie my thanks for that trust fund you set up for Mary, but the address I had for you bounced. I had no idea you’d even set it up.”

Duncan shrugged. “Richie suggested it; he asked me to set it up.”

“We haven’t even talked since Mary was six months old,” Anne started, and shook her head at the look on Duncan’s face.

“To be honest, I’d forgotten about it,” Duncan told her. “I’m sure Richie did too, since we did that so long ago; it was up to the bank to send out the notice of maturation. I hope Mary enjoyed using the funds.”

“It helped pay for her pharmacy school, so yes. Will you tell Richie I said thank you?”

“Of course.”

Anne glanced at her watch. “I should get back to work. It was good to see you, Mac.” She laid down a few bills for the coffee and rose. “Thanks for the hug. You’ve always had a magic for being right there when I needed you.”

Duncan chuckled softly, amazed to realize he was still fond of her, but distantly. Giving her a hug when she needed one was something he would do for anyone who looked as in need of one as she had. Too much time had passed for him to consider picking up the relationship they had once shared. “Be careful out there, Anne.”

She nodded and left the restaurant.

Seeing her reminded Duncan he hadn’t talked to Tamika all week. He waited until the server had cleared Anne’s side of the table before snapping a photo of the empty bench seat. He captioned it, “Wish you were here having lunch with me,” and sent it to Tamika.

He got back a photo of Tamika’s desk, covered in printouts, both screens showing data, and a tan bowl holding half a bowl’s worth of a stir-fry over rice. _Wish I was there. Where are you?_

 _The Thai restaurant next door to my dojo,_ he wrote back. _What are you having for lunch?_

 _Leftover stir-fry and rice from last night_. _I didn’t want to spend money on lunch, and I had a meeting that ran until 12:30._

 _Miss you,_ he wrote, adding a kiss emoji. _Are you coming over Saturday?_

_What time? I have errands I need to do._

_How about six? We can meet at my place, but I’d like to take you to a dinner theatre._

_I’ve never been,_ Tamika wrote, _but I’m game. See you then._ She added a kiss emoji.

Feeling better for having made plans, Duncan finished his late lunch and booked reservations for the dinner theatre, adding a note to request that they not be picked for the audience participation portion of the show.

* * *

####  _Friday, August 16_

“Alone tonight?” Joe asked Duncan as he sat down at the bar.

Duncan shrugged. “I’ll see Tamika tomorrow. I take it Richie’s already gone?”

“Worked the lunch shift for me,” Joe said with a nod. “Did he tell you he got hired at the Turquoise Fox, the bar in the Seacouver Olympic Hotel?”

Duncan nodded. “He called me and left me a voicemail; I was in class. I tried calling him back, but it went straight to voicemail. He’s probably with his date; he mentioned he had met someone and for me not to expect to see him until late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” He met Joe’s eyes. “Do you know who it is?”

“No, but Nathan doesn’t think it’s anyone serious,” Joe offered, referring to Richie’s Watcher. Joe poured Duncan a shot of whiskey and handed it to him. “Richie took his breakup with Paul last year hard. I hear Cory’s still apologizing for introducing them. Which leads me to – are you serious about Tamika?”

Duncan took a sip of his whiskey before answering. “Like I told Richie: I’m still deciding.”

Joe eyed him. “And running into Anne yesterday didn’t help the argument any?”

Startled, Duncan looked at his Watcher. “How did you know about that?”

“She was in here last night, looking as lost as ever,” Joe replied. “She said running into you at lunch made her remember things she’d forgotten. If I had to guess, I’d say she came here to remind herself she’d made her choices and couldn’t go back.”

Duncan frowned. “Did she seem like she wanted to change that?”

Joe shook his head. “No. But for a moment, you had her wondering if she had made the wrong choice.”

“I had to respect her principles. It hurt at the time but that was long ago. I can’t imagine asking her to change her mind.”

Joe nodded. “Not asking you to, Mac. I just wanted you to know she wasn’t expecting you to be friendly.”

Sighing mentally, Duncan looked at his friend. “She looked like she could use a hug.”

“And that’s why, Mac, you rattled her. You take care of the people you care about, sometimes even when they don’t expect you to still care. You gave Anne something with no expectation of anything in return. Again. And you’ve done that, repeatedly, for her. Hell, I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve done that for me. If that isn’t something Tamika can handle, you have bigger problems than whatever Anne wants from you next.”

Duncan acknowledged that truth with a nod and a salute of his whiskey glass.

* * *

####  _Saturday, August 17_

The dinner theatre company performed a drama that involved a few members of the audience. To Tamika’s relief, their table was not picked to take part; Duncan did not tell her he had reserved the table with the request not be in the show. While Duncan had done some acting in his life, he preferred not to be in the spotlight, and given what he knew of Tamika, suspected she was the same. When she expressed relief they were not picked, he knew making that request had been a good decision.

After the dinner and show, Duncan drove them back to his place, where they made love. In the afterglow, Duncan cuddled Tamika close. The odd thought crossed his mind he was grateful Richie was not at home, and he smothered a chuckle.

“Something funny?” Tamika asked, propping herself up on one elbow.

He turned to face her, a smile still playing on his lips. “I lived on a barge in Paris for a few years. It was not a large ship and the walls were thin. Richie won’t let me live that down. He had only been with us for two months and I forgot to ask if he was okay with being on a ship, let alone one with thin walls.”

Tamika’s eyes widened. “I was too loud,” she said, flushing with embarrassment.

“No, never,” Duncan assured her, kissing her. “Just – be glad Richie wasn’t home to hear you. He loves to tease his friends.”

Tamika studied Duncan a moment. “It doesn’t bother you he would tease us about such intimacy?”

Duncan shook his head. “No. I worry more when he stops talking.” He looked at her. “Would it bother you if he teased you about overhearing us?”

Tamika bit her lip. “Knowing he might, ahead of time, makes it easier. I’d be more offended if I didn’t have that forewarning. Has he been staying away because of me? I noticed he hasn’t been here the last few times I stayed over.”

“No. He prefers to stay busy. Even when he lived with me full-time, he was often out late, hanging with his friends or picking up a lover. He’s been picking up shifts at Joe’s, since Joe’s been short-handed with some of his staff already gone off to college.”

Relieved by that, she sighed. “Will he work for Joe full-time?” Tamika wondered.

“No, he’s already gotten a job at the Turquoise Fox, which is the upscale hotel bar at the Seacouver Olympic Hotel. Joe’s a good friend, and Richie likes to help him.” Duncan smiled at Tamika.

“I mentioned you had a friend who was like a son to you to my best friend, Julie. She promptly asked me if he was single and old enough to date.”

Duncan chuckled. “What did you tell her?”

“I said even if he was, I wouldn’t introduce them,” Tamika said. “I’m not sure I’d want Julie with Richie. She’s made a mess of her love life.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She likes the ones who are young, stupid, and pretty, and she keeps expecting them to have the same level of maturity as someone who has more life experience.” Tamika shook her head.

“That doesn’t work,” Duncan noted.

Chuckling, Tamika agreed, “No, it doesn’t. I get the sense Richie’s different, but Julie wouldn’t appreciate him. I don’t know him that well, but I suspect you taught him a lot about how to be a proper gentleman.” She paused. “Even if I suspect he’s always been charming and a player.”

Duncan barked a laugh. “Yes, that’s Richie.” Duncan kissed Tamika. “He’s gotten better; he had a relationship that lasted three years until his boyfriend was an idiot and cheated on him.”

Startled, Tamika looked at Duncan. “Cheat? Why? You both are very loyal and dedicated men. I can’t remember when I’ve been with someone and known your faithfulness to me was never a question.”

Duncan chose his words carefully. “From what Richie told me, Paul had a different definition of polyamory than Richie does. Richie’s ideal relationship would be a closed triad where he’s with two other people, and they’re all faithful to each other.”

“I can’t imagine doing that,” Tamika said after a moment. “And you don’t find that odd or scandalous?”

Duncan shook his head. “I care more about how my friends handle getting hurt in those kinds of situations, because it can get complicated and it’s not for everyone. It’s not something I would do,” he pointed out, “as I prefer to focus my attention on one person, but I’ve watched Richie try to be with one person at a time for years. It doesn’t work for him. Two people have a better chance at keeping him grounded. That friendship helped him stay in Paris for as long as he did, which is why he explored being in a triad for a romantic relationship. He gets a little manic and intense, sometimes too much for one person. It’s one reason I didn’t mind buying him a motorcycle to replace the one damaged; operating a motorcycle helps him focus.”

“I’m definitely not introducing him to Julie,” Tamika murmured. “He’d wear her out.” Tamika leaned up to kiss Duncan. “I don’t want to share you with anyone, and I promise I’ll never cheat on you.”

“Good; I feel the same way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos = love. Looking forward to seeing what y'all think of this chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor edits for consistency have been made to previous chapters. :-)

####  _Friday, September 20_

Tamika paused in the bar’s foyer, which was in the city’s oldest continuously operating hotel, the Seacouver Olympic Hotel. The Turquoise Fox Bar and Grill’s décor had a modern, contemporary feel, welcoming without being stuffy or pretentious, and the back wall behind the U-shaped bar held an impressive array of liquors. A black-painted rolling ladder added to the sense of ‘extensive liquor list.’ Even from where she stood, Tamika could see the beers on tap were also extensive.

A white-and-blue clad female server saw her hovering. “Welcome to the Turquoise Fox. Can I help you?” she asked.

“I came to drop off a present for a friend.” Tamika showed the card she held. “Is Richie Ryan available?”

“Let me check. Your name, please?”

“Tamika Johnson; I’m his ex-guardian’s girlfriend.”

“While I check, would you like a seat at the bar and a drink while you wait?”

“Just a glass of water, please.”

The server nodded and led her to an open seat at the bar. To the bartender on duty, she asked, “Jenny, would you get her a glass of water? I need to go in the back for a minute.”

Jenny turned to Tamika and smiled professionally as she poured her a glass of water. “First time here?”

“Last time I was in this hotel was a wedding reception seven years ago. I don’t think this was the Turquoise Fox then.”

Jenny laughed. “No, we were this godawful speakeasy-themed place. I hated it. Nobody understood what we were trying to do, and all the guests wanted something a little less trendy.”

Tamika pulled out a dollar bill from her purse and slid it on the bar, aware she was taking up time and space.

Jenny accepted the tip with an appreciative smile. “Please let me know if you need anything else while you wait.”

Tamika had nearly finished with her glass of water before Richie stepped out of the back room.

“Sorry for the wait,” he apologized, greeting her with a hug. “I was processing the schedule and couldn’t close out of the application until it confirmed I’d done everything I wanted it to do.”

“No problem.” She handed him the card. “Duncan told me you don’t make a big deal out of your birthday, but it didn’t seem right to let it go unnoticed.”

He took it and read the sweet message. “Aww, thanks, Tamika.” He slipped the card into the pocket of the bartender’s apron he wore. “Really appreciate you remembering, especially since your office isn’t near here.”

“Oh, my condo is about ten minutes from here,” Tamika told him. “I pass this hotel all the time on my walk home. I left work early so I could make sure I could be here before it was too crazy; I remember you telling me Friday nights were busy.” She hesitated, biting her lip.

“Something on your mind?”

“Last month, when Duncan bought you your new motorcycle and gear, you didn’t blink at him dropping several thousand dollars on you, yet you work here. You could–”

“Live off him?” Richie finished as he leaned against the bar. “Sure, if I wanted to slowly go crazy. I don’t do well with sitting still. I never have – it’s one reason I wound up labeled ‘problematic’ and ‘difficult’ as a kid. If I’d been born a generation later, they would have diagnosed me with some attention disorder and drugged me into sitting still and behaving.” He shook his head, his lips in a moue of distaste. “Even when I lived with him, Duncan didn’t believe in letting me sit still. I was working in his antique shop, or helping Tessa either welding or cooking or hell, she’d invent things for me to do.” He grinned briefly at the memory. “Why do you care?”

“It just – Duncan wants to spoil me, take me to fancy restaurants and the theatre, have me dress up. Even now I can afford it for myself, I still feel like everyone’s staring.”

Richie’s smile dimmed. “No one is,” he told her gently. “If you look like you belong there, no one will care. Why do you run so hard from enjoying the finer things, Tamika?”

“Because my parents judge me for it.”

“And whose life are you living – theirs or yours?” he asked evenly. “If you’re judging Duncan for giving me a gift worth several thousand dollars, then know that the last time he spent that much on me was twenty years ago.”

Tamika shook her head slightly, confused. “Why so long ago?”

“Because I haven’t needed him to,” Richie pointed out. He studied her a long moment. “Tamika, if you give Mac a chance, he’ll help you be the best person you can be. Money is only one of the ways he’ll do it. Why are you so worried you won’t measure up?”

“Weren’t you?” she asked.

Richie barked a laugh. “Yeah, but I got over it, eventually. Let me guess, you’ve talked to your parents recently and they’ve commented about your relationship – not exactly complaining, but insinuating you need their approval before you get any more involved.”

“How did you guess?” Surprise colored her voice.

“Been a bartender for twenty years; it gives you a lot of insight into people,” Richie informed her, smiling gently. “Plus, I’ve been the guy on the other side of that; I once dated a woman who was raised in very traditional Hindu household. What do your parents want now?”

“They want to meet you and Duncan.”

“When?”

“This Sunday. I told them it’s too short notice.”

“What time?”

“Four in the afternoon until likely seven or eight,” she replied.

“Much as I appreciate the invite, I can’t go; I have to work.” He studied her a moment, his gaze sharp and assessing. “You look worried about how Mac is going to react. You shouldn’t be. He’s faced tougher opponents than your parents, and I need not have met your parents to say that.”

Tamika bit her lip. “I’m not worried about him. I’m worried about them; they’ll embarrass me by asking nosy questions about his finances.”

“Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do?”

“Yes, but when they find out he can afford to drop several thousand dollars on a gift without flinching, they’ll pressure me into quitting my job.”

Richie sighed. “And who’ll tell them that? Tamika, if you don’t tell your parents anything, they can only guess on how loaded he is based on whatever information they currently have.”

Tamika stared at him. It had never occurred to her that not telling her parents about Duncan’s gift to Richie was an option. “But they want to know that kind of thing.”

“And what if I told you I don’t think your parents need to know that? Would you respect that?”

“Yes, of course, but how else am I going to show he can take care of me?”

“Tamika, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t tell your parents you’re a strong, independent woman capable of supporting herself without a man in your life and then turn around and prove to them your boyfriend can support you. Your argument for self-sufficiency fails at that point.”

Caught by that, Tamika acknowledged that with a rueful nod. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. But they still want to meet him.”

“If you don’t want to introduce Mac to your parents, then don’t. He’ll support you either way. I heard Tessa’s parents were openly hostile to him until they had been together for five years and realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Tessa told me they didn’t like he took their daughter away to the US, but when they saw he spent half a year in France every year, he suddenly became their favorite.” Richie paused before adding, “Tamika, a guy like Mac is rare. They don’t make too many men like him these days. He’ll encourage you, support your dreams, protect you, and love you like you’re the only woman in his world. He taught me what real love and abiding trust means.”

“I’m scared, Richie. I’ve wanted no one as much as I want him, and it feels like he could charm my parents and then they’ll pressure me into marrying him. I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I love my career; I love knowing I can put in the time required to make it successful, without having to make excuses to someone waiting at home for me.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Tamika, Mac puts in 50-hour weeks running that martial arts studio. He’s no absentee owner or some dude who only shows up to train students twice a week and makes his managers and other instructors carry the weight.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he gave me the job of dojo manager when I was nineteen and expected me to make it work. I know the hours it takes to make a dojo successful; I was helping Mac run one before my twenty-first birthday. Mac isn’t someone who half-asses something.”

Tamika blinked, then shook her head. “I think I knew that, but hearing you say it makes it click in my head.”

Richie smiled. “Talk to Mac, Tamika; tell him what has you so worried. I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get back to work before the Friday evening crush really picks up in here.”

“Thanks, Richie. Happy birthday.” Taking her cue, she hugged him and left the upscale bar.

* * *

Stepping out of the bar, Tamika walked the rest of the way home. Once in her condo, she went through her evening routine of a half hour of meditative yoga, showering, and changing into her pajamas before cooking herself dinner. As she ate, Julie, her best friend, texted her.

_Didn’t you say your boyfriend’s son is the lead bartender at the Turquoise Fox?_

_Yes, he’s a tall, boyish-looking redhead,_ Tamika texted back. _Why?_

 _Because he’s yummy, hello,_ Julie wrote. _Damn, he looks like jailbait._

Tamika chuckled. _He’s not. He worked for that bar in Paris for twenty years before someone bombed it. And what are you doing in the Turquoise Fox?_

 _Last-minute congrats on joining the team happy hour thing with the new marketing admin,_ Julie said. _Laine said she wanted to go where the bartenders were pretty and super-competent. I didn’t realize she meant here. Join us._

_I was just there, wishing Richie a happy birthday, and I’m already in my PJs. Rain check?_

_I suppose,_ Julie said, adding emojis that clarified she was not pleased but not surprised either.

The conversation with Julie made Tamika remember she had yet to talk to Duncan about seeing her parents. Aware he was teaching a class, she sent him a text, asking him if he would drive down to Tacoma to meet them.

Half an hour later, her phone rang. Seeing it was Duncan, she answered. “Hi! I take it you saw my text.”

“Yes, and I figured it would be easier to talk this through. What time on Sunday? Do you expect us to be there a good part of the day?”

“They want us for dinner, which will be at my parents’ house, and will probably be a few hours, starting at 4 pm. My parents will want to show you their garden, embarrassing childhood photos, grill you about your finances, and ask you other nosy and intrusive questions. If you survive that, dinner will be at six, and it will be way too much food.” Tamika took a breath before adding, “They want to meet you and Richie, but I told them it was likely too soon for Richie to be asking off work, since he just started that job a month ago. I talked to Richie, and he said he was already scheduled.”

“Then we’ll go,” Duncan said calmly.

Tamika stared at her phone, surprised. “You aren’t nervous?”

“No. Should I be?”

Tamika sighed. “They embarrass me with their obsession with money, status, and what a woman’s role should be. They’re proud of me for accomplishing as much as I have, but my mom, especially, hounds me on how I should spend more time learning to be a proper housewife and mother. I don’t want to sit at home and contemplate how I can clean the house better.”

“Do they know that?”

“I’ve tried to tell them, but I swear they hear my biological clock ticking faster than I do. I’m thirty-three; I don’t want kids, and I never have.”

“How come?”

“I was always more focused on my career, and the traditional culture in which I was raised made me realize I would have to choose between one or the other – or do the impossible, like everyone else, and juggle both and lose at something. I hate losing.” Tamika paused, realizing they hadn’t discussed children. “Do you want children?”

Duncan chuckled. “No; I learned a long time ago I can’t sire children. My life tends not to make room for raising children; Richie was a rare exception.”

Tamika laughed. “I can see making that kind of exception.” She considered the notion a moment longer. “Older children are one thing – and helping an older child, like someone who is older than ten years old – that feels like a good thing. But I’ve never wanted to go through pregnancy or thought beyond a ‘do not want my own’ conviction.”

“Then you should set that expectation with your parents,” Duncan suggested. “Otherwise, they will keep pressuring you for something you won’t deliver.”

“We’ll see. Yours never pressured you for children?”

“My parents are dead, and my cousin is the only family aside from Richie I have. Both Connor and Richie understand why I don’t want children.”

“That makes it easier then. I know you said you were teaching classes tomorrow, but did you want to meet for dinner? I can plan to stay over, and that way, we can leave straight from your place on Sunday.”

“That will work out nicely. If you don’t mind waiting for me to close the dojo, you can meet me at the dojo at seven-thirty,” Duncan told her, “and we can go from there.”

“I’d love that. See you then.” Tamika ended the call, pleased with the conversation.

* * *

####  _Sunday, September 22, 7:30 pm_

Exhausted from having been at work all day after a fourteen-hour shift the day before, Richie took extra care to make sure he locked the doors behind himself and reengaged the security alarm on the house before he trudged into his room. Grateful to be alone, he took a deep breath before sitting down to remove his helmet, then his boots, and then strip off the rest of his gear, piling the lot by the door. He paused in his piling of his gear to pull out his sword from the crossbody sheath he had added to the underside of the motorcycle jacket and set it on the bed. That task complete, he shed his work clothes as he stepped into the ensuite bathroom. Once he had showered, he changed into the t-shirt and shorts he favored for sleeping in, set his sword into the holder he had set up by the head of his bed, and slept.

The warning siren of approaching immortal woke him an hour later. He jerked awake, forgetting where he was for a moment, then exhaled heavily as he heard Duncan punch in the code to disengage the alarm. Abruptly, he realized he had not shut his bedroom door. He got out of bed to shut it, only to hear Duncan talking.

“Tamika, you were worried they would embarrass you. From where I was sitting, it looked like our meeting went well. It pleased them I knew Japanese and had lived in Tokyo. You’re upset with me. Why?” Duncan sounded confused.

Richie swore, suspecting the answer was ‘he forgot to tell Tamika those details.’

“You mentioned none of that!” Tamika cried, stepping into the living room.

Hastily, Richie pulled the door to his bedroom shut, but curiosity had him bracing it open a crack with one of his boots.

* * *

Tamika turned to look at Duncan, upset. “You couldn’t mention that to me before now?”

“I thought I had,” Duncan said, looking perplexed. “I thought I told you I had moved here from Tokyo five years ago. Tamika, most of the martial arts disciplines I teach are Japanese – judo, karate, kenjutsu; the only Western one I teach is fencing. I have a deep respect and interest in Japanese martial arts and have for most of my life.”

“Is that why you’re interested in me? Because I’m a half-Japanese black woman?”

Duncan sighed impatiently. “Your ethnicity and culture have shaped you into the beautiful woman you are, but I’m not a fetishist. It pleased me to know you have the heritage you do – but what attracted me to you was how vibrant you are as a person. The more I’ve gotten to know you, the more deeply I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Tamika stared at him.

“Are you angry that I passed your parents’ tests and have their blessing to date you? Or are you more upset that you couldn’t use them as the excuse to break up with me?”

“No! I–” Tamika took a deep breath, marshaling her thoughts. “I watched you charm them and realized I’d never noticed just how charming you are. You made sure they knew you thought the world of me, and you deflected questions about why you left Tokyo, why you hadn’t insisted on Richie coming with us, why you weren’t doing more with your life.” She took another breath. “It made me remember every time I asked you comparable questions, you told me it didn’t matter, or you distracted me with kisses or questions about something else. Or you’d give me a random piece of trivia about you that you thought I needed to know. I feel like I met another part of you this afternoon, Duncan, and that’s not a feeling I enjoy having.”

Duncan met her gaze. “Is there something you want to know?”

“Yes! Why do you keep a katana by your bed, like you expect someone to come crashing through the bedroom? Why do you always tense up when Richie comes into a room? Why does Richie act sometimes like he doesn’t trust you?”

Duncan froze. “Why don’t we sit down, and we can talk about this?”

Tamika folded her arms and stared at him. “Sit, but I want to hear this.” She glanced at the guest bedroom. “And you might as well come out here, Richie – I know you’re listening. Duncan relaxed when he saw your boots were by the door.”

Richie glanced at Duncan as he exited his room. Duncan saw he looked tired, no doubt from the long shifts he had spent working. “I can answer the last question,” he volunteered. “We had an argument – actually, we’ve had a lot of arguments – over what I was doing with my life. I was reckless when I was younger; I even raced motorcycles. I dated women who were dangerous, murderous, and deceitful; it almost got us both killed. I didn’t learn from my mistakes. Eventually, we parted ways, and it wasn’t until after we’d had a long talk about expectations and reality that we became friends again.” He took a deep breath. “But what happened then shattered the implicit trust we’d had. Sometimes, being with him again, I remember what happened, and I take a second or two to remember we’re not like that.”

Tamika stared at him before turning to Duncan. “What did you do?”

Duncan closed his eyes briefly; aware Richie had given him a good cover story – but Richie was right. He needed to tell Tamika about immortals, before the next set of headhunters gave her nightmares, before dying before her became the reason for her to make drastic decisions about her future. “I tried to kill him,” he admitted to Tamika.

Alarmed, Tamika cried out, “Why the hell?”

“I was out of my mind. Before I get into why that happened, there’s something else I need to tell you. Do you believe in magic, Tamika? Not like Houdini or David Copperfield, but real magic, magic that you can’t explain with science?”

Tamika eyed him warily. “Sometimes, but I don’t understand why that has anything to do with you attempting to kill Richie.”

“Everything,” Richie said heavily. To Duncan, he asked, “You want me to get my main gauche?”

“If you don’t mind me using it.”

With a nod, Richie went to retrieve the small dagger. He returned and handed it to Tamika, who was startled to receive it. “Why are you giving this to me?”

“So you can take a look at it and see there’s nothing trick about it – the blade doesn’t spring down into the handle, the edges on both sides are sharp, and there’s weight in the blade. The S guard doesn’t fold away or move.”

Tamika took a moment to check it out. “Okay, so?” She held it out to Duncan, not understanding.

Duncan stepped closer, grasped her wrist firmly. “My name is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod,” he said, slipping into a Scottish accent. “I was born in the Highlands of Scotland in 1592, and I cannot die.” He plunged the dagger into his heart, shocking Tamika, and collapsed at her feet.

Tamika let go of the dagger, horrified. She turned alarmed eyes to Richie. “We need to call 911. He’s lost his mind!”

“No,” Richie stated firmly and calmly. “Pull out the dagger, hard. It will want to stick, and it’ll sound awful, but watch the lightning, and wait.”

Tamika hesitated.

“Do it, Tamika, or else I will, and you won’t believe the story if I do.”

Wanting to believe him, Tamika did as he told her, handing over the dagger with reckless haste, cutting his hand.

“Fuck, that hurt!” Richie swore, and turned his hand to show her the blood well up and the lightning close the wound, before he set the blade down on the coffee table.

“I’m sorry!” Hand on her mouth, Tamika stared at him, then at Duncan, whose chest was filled with lightning. He groaned as he revived and accepted Richie’s hand up. Richie stepped back.

“You’re not human,” Tamika accused them.

“We’re not aliens,” Duncan told her gently. “We’re immortals, which is a bit of a misnomer. We can heal from anything except decapitation. And if you run out of here in the next few minutes, please know that us telling you this is our greatest secret. It means our lives if you tell anyone.”

Tamika stumbled back; Richie caught her and gently guided her to sit on the couch. “Who would I tell? My parents?” She laughed hollowly. “They think you’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had. No way am I going to screw up that perception.”

“What about your best friend?” Richie asked.

“My best friend has a crush on you,” Tamika told him, “and given you probably wouldn’t date any customers, I think… I think it’s better if I said nothing. Let it live as a harmless fantasy.” She looked at him. “How old are you, really?”

“Forty-five. I was born in Seacouver in 1974. Sorry, I don’t quite have the pedigree Duncan does, but I really was a homeless, runaway, punk-ass thief, foster care failure who tried to rob him one wild night in 1992.”

Tamika considered his words before nodding acceptance. She turned to Duncan, who sat on the other side of the sectional, waiting for her judgment. “You’re four hundred twenty-seven years old?”

“Not quite. Four hundred twenty-six; my birthday’s December 21.”

“But how….? You don’t look that old.”

“I was killed in a battle between the MacLeods and a neighboring clan in 1622. Immortals grow and age until their first death, after which we never age. We also can’t have biological children, which makes how we’re born a mystery.”

Tamika stared at him. “Did your clan know what would happen to you?”

Duncan shook his head. “There were rumors of one like me from fifty years earlier – a demon who was killed in battle and who would not die, but we all thought it was evil magic. The demon’s name was Connor, my clansmen whispered, and if I said his name, terrible things would happen to me, so I did not dare say it. I did not understand what I was until after they drove me out, much like he had been. I wandered through the forest alone until he found me. Connor was born seventy-four years earlier than me; he died in battle too and tried to keep an eye out for me so I would live to be older than he had been when he died. His efforts succeeded; I was twenty-nine, compared to his eighteen. He became my teacher, my mentor, and my best friend, and he taught me how to live as an immortal. I call him my cousin; we’re rare among our kind for that familial connection.”

“What more do you need to know beyond keeping how you survive death a secret?” Tamika wondered.

“All immortals are players in what’s called ‘The Game.’ It’s a battle between the forces of good and evil. We fight each other in duels to the death. The winner gains the knowledge and skill and soul of the loser through the acquisition of their Quickening when the winner cuts off the loser’s head. The lightning you saw is part of the Quickening.”

Tamika glanced between Duncan and Richie. “Why?”

“Because in the end,” Duncan said heavily, “there can be only one immortal left standing. That immortal will have the power to rule the world.”

“Think about it, Tamika,” Richie urged. “If we know what our opponent knows when we win, we gain their lifetime’s worth of experience, skills, and learning. Sometimes, that knowledge is useful – I speak and write Russian fluently because I’ve played the Game. Sometimes, it’s painful. I know what it feels like to die of starvation, of injuries inflicted by torture, to watch as others are slaughtered while you sit there, in chains, helpless. Multiply that across the centuries of human experience and–”

“–you wind up with people who have fought in the world’s worst wars, who built empires, who helped others win and fight and lose, who know exactly how to make those things happen,” Duncan finished, “and with the total of all immortals who ever lived contained in the last of us standing, you have someone who could rule the world. That person could be someone fantastic and benevolent–”

“– or a despot, intent on shaping the world to their selfish desires,” Tamika realized. “Even the best of us harbor some evil, or they could be turned if the circumstances were right. I’m enough of a student of history to know some of the grand architectural structures wouldn’t still exist if it weren’t for the desire for power and glory.”

Duncan and Richie nodded somberly.

“Is that why you fight? So that someday, one of you could be that one?”

“Or if it’s not us, someone who has enough of a moral code not to be swayed into temptation,” Richie said. He looked at Duncan. “His cousin, Connor, won the last mini-Gathering in 1986. Some say if Connor doesn’t win it all, when we’re all drawn to some faraway land by the same mystical force that created immortals to battle to be the last, that Duncan’s the best choice.”

“And you? Where do you fit?”

“I’m the heir apparent,” Richie half-joked. “But that also would mean I’d lose everyone I ever cared about. I’d lose the man who taught me I had a better life than being a street rat, and the man who’s become my favorite uncle, all my friends… it’s too much to contemplate.”

“Neither of us want that,” Duncan told Tamika. “I fight because I can, because I want to protect the people I love, and because I believe in fighting against evil.”

“And you?” Tamika looked expectantly at Richie.

“Because the alternative is: I sit on my ass and either ask my friends to take risks on my behalf or hide out on holy ground. As all our mutual friends will tell you, sitting on my ass and doing nothing is not my style. I’m more willing to walk away from a fight than Duncan or Connor – they grew up expecting to fight in clan wars. I didn’t want to even join the military, not even as a ticket out of my situation. But I spent a year playing the Game from the other side, and it taught me I needed better reasons to fight than ‘I want to win the Game.’” He met Tamika’s gaze. “I know this is a lot to take in and process, but I want you to know – just because we’re immortal doesn’t mean we don’t love as deeply as anyone else.”

“It means I’d die to protect you from another immortal,” Duncan interjected. “I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Tamika closed her eyes. “Even hide the truth from me.”

“Yes. Tamika, I love you. I wanted to keep this from you as long as I could, because I know it’s a challenging thing to accept, and it’s not something everyone I’ve loved has been willing to put up with. It means the longer you’re with me, the more likely you become a target for those who would harm you to get to me.”

“The first year I lived with Duncan and Tessa, I lost count of how many of his enemies targeted me or Tessa or both of us,” Richie volunteered. “I joke sometimes I know how to get myself out of a kidnapping – but it’s not really a joke.”

“And you didn’t warn him he would be like you?” Tamika demanded, astonished.

“I would’ve died even sooner if I’d known, given how reckless I was about my safety back then,” Richie told her, glancing at Duncan. “Mac did his best to get me to stop being reckless, but I thought he was being overprotective and weird, like he didn’t trust my judgment. As it was, I was nineteen when I died. A mugger shot Tessa and me when she didn’t reach for her purse fast enough.”

Tamika turned to Duncan. “Why didn’t you want to tell me, especially if you knew someone might harm me to get to you?”

“No matter how many times I have this conversation,” Duncan began, “I don’t know how it ends. I’ve had lovers call me a demon, claim I’m possessed, out of my head, or reject me. Every time, I want to love the woman I’m with, without–”

“Without having to wonder if I’ll walk away once I know what you are,” Tamika finished. She exhaled heavily. “Has anyone ever walked away, knowing the truth, and still not wanted to be your lover?”

“Yes. She was a doctor, and she held firm to her belief that she couldn’t be with someone who would take lives.” Duncan met Richie’s eyes as both remembered Anne. “I ran into her a few weeks ago; she still feels the same way as she did twenty years ago.”

“She’s the reason I wanted Duncan to tell you before it got to the same point with her,” Richie interjected. “An enemy of Duncan’s lured her to a theatre, timing it so she would show up in time to see them fighting against each other. Anne ended up watching Duncan to fall to his death. I hated having to pretend he was dead when I could see how much they loved each other.”

Tamika stared at him and Duncan. “That’s why you weren’t grieving as much as I thought you would be over your friends in Paris – they’re not dead.”

Richie shook his head. “Just dead to the public for the next several years, since the news showed their bodies being carried out and announced their deaths. They’re alive and living elsewhere.”

A thought occurred to her. “If something like that happened to either of you, what would you expect me to do?”

“Depends on the circumstances,” Duncan answered, “but given you know about immortals now, I would likely ask you to come with me, wherever I went to next.”

“I can’t give up my career here – I’ve worked too hard to reach the position I have.”

Richie looked at Duncan before adding, “At the very least, we ask you to say nothing to anyone else about what you know now. We’ve both been successful in not dying publicly, slipping out of morgues, and continuing on as if nothing ever happened.”

“You said you were out of your mind – what happened?” Tamika asked, remembering what had triggered this revelation.

“One of our kind was someone who targeted evil immortals, hoping to contain their evil with his good,” Duncan said heavily. “Unfortunately, he took one too many, and overloaded. He came to me, and I was forced to defend myself. The Quickenings he had taken combined with his Quickening overloaded me, and for a month and a half, I was the worst person anyone could ever meet. A friend took me to a holy spring and healed me, but by then, I’d already tried to take Richie’s head.”

“Joe shot him and saved me,” Richie added. “I ran, convinced the only way to survive was to become better at playing the Game. I didn’t care who I fought, as long as I won.”

Tamika gasped. “Didn’t anyone tell you that Duncan was healed?”

“I wouldn’t have believed them,” Richie said. “It was a year before Duncan tried to apologize. It wasn’t pretty – I was still angry – but we managed to patch up things. I’ve forgiven him, but I can’t forget. That year apart shaped me.” Hard-won knowledge was reflected on his face. “One of the lessons I learned from back then I want you to remember, Tamika, is that no matter what happens, Duncan will still protect you. So will I, but we need to know you’ll keep our secret.”

“I can’t imagine anyone believing me,” she said, shaking her head. “I will, but – God. The two of you are so solid I can really see the only way to break you apart would be if one of you lost your minds.” 

Tamika looked over at the knife on the coffee table before breathing deeply. “If there was anyone I could talk to who knows about you, who isn’t immortal, who would it be?”

“Joe Dawson,” Duncan offered. “He’s known about us since one of us saved his life during the Vietnam War; got him to a field hospital after a land mine took his legs and most of the platoon.”

“No wonder you wanted me to meet him,” Tamika murmured. “Who else knows?”

“My friend, Angie Burke,” Richie proposed. “She and I used to run with the same gang. I’ll give you her email and number; she’s been a reason I keep coming back to this city for the past two decades.”

“Girlfriend?”

Richie barked a laugh. “When we were both thirteen. We broke up and stayed better friends.” He rose, taking the knife with him, and returned with his phone, texting Tamika Angie’s contact information after getting Tamika’s number. “And as much as I’d like to continue this conversation, I’ve had two very long days packed back to back, and I’d like to get some sleep.”

Tamika met his gaze. “Thank you.”

She waited until he had shut the door before she turned to Duncan. “I don’t know how I feel about all of this,” she warned, “but I’m thinking like Richie. It’s late, and I’d like for you to take me home. I need some distance before I decide what I want to do next.”

His heart heavy, Duncan nodded and went to fetch his keys.


	7. Chapter 7

#### Wednesday, September 25, 7:45 AM

The coffee shop Angie had chosen for their meeting was close to Tamika’s work, but one she had not known existed, since she tended not to go the two blocks south of her usual route. It was a brightly lit, cheery space, with prominent signage declaring it to be a safe space for LBTQ+, people of color, and immigrants. Tamika found the coffee prices to be on par with similar coffee shops, but what caught her attention was the staff’s enthusiasm for what they were doing.

Tamika ordered a large mocha and a cranberry scone and went to the table near the back Angie had said would be reserved for them. She found the table for two reserved with a cat-head sticky note that said, “for A and T – and if you don’t know who that is, it’s not for you! 😀.” Amused, Tamika sat down.

She didn’t have long to wait. Angie walked in a few minutes later, wearing a burgundy sheath dress under a black leather jacket and black flats. She had reddish-brown hair, an oval face with a wide forehead, and a medium build on a slender frame. She walked with confidence, chatted with the barista as she asked and paid for a medium coffee, and then placed her mug on the table.

“Hi, I’m Angie Burke,” she said, extending her hand to shake. “I work as a family lawyer for Seacouver Law Alliance, a multidisciplinary law firm a few blocks from here.”

Tamika rose and shook hands with her, finding her grip professional. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Tamika Johnson; I’m one of the two senior associates at City Architects.”

Both women took their seats. “Richie said you’ve known him since you were kids.”

Nodding, Angie smiled. “I met Duncan a few weeks after Richie moved in with him; I remember thinking Richie had really scored a ticket to the big time.”

“I can imagine,” Tamika murmured. “My mom didn’t work, and we lived on my dad’s Navy pay. I still feel like I’m an imposter when I dress up for some event other than work.”

Angie sipped her coffee before asking, “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You want to know what the hardest part of loving a guy like Duncan and Richie is like.”

“Yes. Don’t you worry about what they’re doing?”

“I’d worry more if the people they fight against weren’t the kind the police can only temporarily stop,” Angie said flatly. “An immortal killed a friend of mine and Richie’s. That immortal was determined to raise an army of drugged-out followers. He wanted to be worshipped as a god, and he didn’t care how many people he killed, how many others he got addicted, or how many lives he ruined.”

Tamika’s eyes widened. “Couldn’t you have gone to the police?”

“And told them about a drug lord so powerful no one could kill him? What do you think they would do?”

“Well, arrest him.”

“And then what? They shoot him, he dies, and one of his followers smuggles him out of the morgue. Two days later, he’s back in business.”

“But if they caught him?”

“Okay, let’s assume they caught him, and he doesn’t conveniently die and escape. Assuming our justice system works, and he serves time, what happens when he gets back out?”

“I don’t know,” Tamika admitted. “Go home and hopefully not do the thing he was doing?”

Angie snorted. “Our criminal justice system is a revolving door. We don’t rehabilitate people. We just lock them up, and keep spitting them back out, and hope that someday they learn not to come back. It’s why I’m not a criminal lawyer. But for some people, that wouldn’t be a hindrance. The immortals Richie and Duncan fight against – the evil ones – have enough money, power, and intelligence to make mini-empires. Some judge won’t intimidate them by locking them up and throwing away the key. They’d just bide their time – maybe even become a model prisoner – and twenty or fifty or a hundred years later, pick right back up where they left off.”

Tamika looked at Angie, startled. “But their enemies aren’t all like that, are they?”

“No. Some of them are people who think the only way to win the Game is to fight and win. I’ve seen Richie walk away from a fight, only to have the same headhunter come back two days later and try again. I’ve been hurt by people who think I have the magic key to make Richie or Duncan or one of their other friends give up their lives.”

“Why do you put up with it?” Tamika demanded, shocked at Angie’s willingness to risk her safety. “If someone has hurt you because of your friendship with Duncan and Richie, why stay friends?”

“Because Richie and Duncan gave me the money to go to law school,” Angie said, leaning back in her chair. “He and Duncan set it up so I could – even in the early days of the Internet – chat with them for cheap, long-distance, which was a lifeline for me when I was scared and convinced maybe I should go back to the gang I’d been in instead of taking the opportunity they were giving me to have a better life.”

“You would’ve done that, even knowing that opportunity to better yourself was there?”

“Fear doesn’t have reason, Tamika. It took many phone calls to convince me the things my old gang were telling me were lies. But I trusted them, and they funded my education. One time, I feared failing a big exam. Richie flew from Paris just to hold my hand and drill me on the material I was going to be tested on. He even walked me to class the next day and waited for me outside, just so he could give me a hug. When I went to go test for my bar exam, he and Duncan were there, along with a few of their friends. Nobody celebrated harder than they did when I passed the bar.”

“I’ve never had a friend like that.”

“Few of us do. They introduced me to people I’d never otherwise meet in a million years. I got to intern at one of the big-name law firms in Olympia because of their connections. I wouldn’t have the life I have now if it weren’t for my friendship with Richie and Duncan. For that, I would do anything to repay them. They’ve held my hand as I cried over failed relationships, bad bosses, and crazy clients. They’ve defended me, sometimes literally, and taught me how to fight back with words and weapons. I’m not an unbiased woman, Tamika, and I feel privileged to know them.”

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll see you someday as…” Tamika took a deep breath. “Old and broken?”

“Not if their friendship with Joe Dawson is any sign,” Angie replied, and took a sip of her coffee. “They’ll boss you into making sure you’re fully vaccinated, get regular physicals, and take care of your health. Once, they asked me to check on Joe, since they had heard the city had frozen over and they couldn’t get through to his phone. Turned out he was using the ice as an excuse to sleep – but they were worried, and because I’d gotten to know Joe, I was worried too.”

“You don’t worry about people asking you why you’re with someone younger?”

Angie shrugged. “Not really. I’ve watched Richie stay the same physical age for twenty years, but his eyes aren’t the eyes of a nineteen-year-old’s. He tells me I’ve only gotten prettier with age. I tell him he needs to flatter a woman who doesn’t remember when we were splitting five-dollar teriyaki meals and thinking we were eating at the Ritz.”

“Does having them in your life… ruin your relationships with other people? I mean, at some point, you can’t talk about them.”

Angie shrugged. “Richie lived in Paris, which helped. He became the ‘childhood friend I see in Paris every few years.’ Duncan was out of town, too, and he’s always been more of an ancillary friend than a primary one – my friendship and loyalty has always been to Richie first, and he knows that. But now they’re both in town – sure, it makes it harder. But I’ve never been one to talk about my friends much; my years in a gang left me inclined to keep my mouth shut. Attorney-client privilege makes it even more so.”

“You’ve left that gang behind, though.”

Angie nodded. “Richie got me out and later, into a better living situation with Duncan’s help, so I could stop being a statistic about homeless youth and get my GED and a college degree.” She sipped her coffee. “If you’re asking about what you can tell people – I tell people who’ve known me a long time that Richie’s an old friend with great genes. When it gets to be obvious we’re not the same physical age, I plan on saying that same damn thing. Nobody will give a shit if you act like you don’t. But that’s something you’ll want to discuss with Duncan, so you have a consistent story.” She flashed a smile. “Us lawyer-types like it when our witnesses are consistent.”

Tamika took a sip of her mocha before she asked, “Are they really killers?”

“Yes.” Angie met her gaze. “And they won’t apologize for being good at it, either, only that they had to do it, that they had to take a life, that you had to – God forbid – watch them do it. They’re in a war of good vs. evil, and they’re on the side of good. If you can’t stomach that, walk away now. Duncan will be heartbroken, but he’ll live. Hard part for you if you go that route is knowing you can’t go back to when you didn’t know. You can’t unhear what I’ve told you, and you can’t unhear what they’ve said – and unless you want them dead, you won’t tell anyone what you know.”

Tamika ate her scone as she contemplated what Angie had said. “I can’t argue against capital punishment. I know there are people out there who’d kill and use other people without an ounce of remorse. Knowing someone like Duncan or Richie is out there fighting against others like them–” She took a breath. “I’ve thought it over and I can’t find an argument against not supporting them. They’re two of the best men I’ve ever known.”

Angie nodded. “You won’t get an argument from me on that.”

“You still get scared when you know about a fight.”

Angie nodded again. “Every time. Richie’s talked to me, sometimes, after a fight. He’s all wired and a little manic then. He’s told me that just being able to hear my voice grounds him like nothing else. I’m a piece of his past that’s older than his relationship with Duncan, and older than when he became immortal.” She looked at Tamika. “From what Richie’s told me, Duncan loves you. Does Duncan’s extensive history shock you?”

“How could I possibly measure up to anyone else he’s had before?” Tamika asked, gesturing helplessly. “Four hundred years – he’s probably met women who would put me to shame.”

Angie shook her head. “Don’t think of it that way. You’ll meet Amanda eventually, and you can’t compare yourself with her. She and Duncan have loved each other on and off for centuries – but she’s with Nick Wolfe and has been for the last two decades, with a strong shot of that not ending soon.”

“Is she beautiful?” Tamika worried.

“Yes, and she’s used that beauty to get what she wants for centuries. You can’t wonder what she looks like, Tamika. Like I said, she’ll show up here, eventually; she always does. She was Richie’s boss in Paris.”

“I thought she was dead.”

“Not permanently.” Angie sighed. “But like I said – you can’t wonder about her. You’ll waste energy and time being jealous of what she is. Think about your relationship with Duncan as: he is with you. He won’t cheat on you, not even when Amanda comes to visit and flirt and try to get him to do something Nick won’t do for her. Duncan chose you, in this city, in this time, to be with, and he will love you unconditionally. You can trust he will be there for you, love you until you’re dead, and remember you fondly in the years to come after that. If that’s not what you want out of your relationship with him, then tell him you don’t want his love or his friendship. Tell him that if he saw you on the street, looking like you needed a hug, to keep on walking.”

Tamika’s eyes widened. “He’d do that, even if we broke up?”

“Richie helped him build a house for an ex-girlfriend. Duncan still gave her the house when they were done, because he’d made a promise, even if she had no idea that house would be hers.”

Tamika stared at Angie. “Did she take the house?”

“Even lived in it for a few years. By then, though, she had stopped talking to Duncan. Richie too.” Angie shrugged. “Duncan taught Richie how to be selfless. It’s how he was raised – you take care of your clan, no matter what. I can tell you from my friendship with Richie and Duncan that it won’t matter if you tell Duncan you’re through being his lover – if some immortal were to harm you, he’d still come, rescue you if you needed it, and defend you against that immortal. Hell, if Duncan couldn’t do it, Richie would.” Angie met her gaze. “They’d both die for you, Tamika. Permanently, if they had to, but that would be a last resort.”

Tamika’s eyes widened. “I’m just an architect with a downtown condo and a successful career. I’m half Japanese and thirty-three years old. I’m not some queen or celebrity who has some grand important thing they’re doing. How could I be worth that much to Duncan and Richie? They could live forever!”

“Love is worth everything to them. And frankly, they inspire me to be worth that sacrifice every day. Duncan thinks you’re worth everything. Richie will do what he can to make sure you’re safe, because you matter to Duncan. What more proof do you need to believe in that kind of love?”

Tamika studied Angie a long moment. “Why aren’t you with Richie?”

“Because while I love him dearly, we make better friends than lovers,” Angie said, amused by the predictable question. “I want a guy who isn’t a bisexual and polyamorous like he is, who needs two people to sit on his ass when he wants to go off half-cocked. I prefer my guys to be straight, monogamous, and not likely to get into fights. I get my fill of hero-types with Richie and Duncan in my life; I’d rather not date one. Though I wouldn’t say no if one of their friends came through again and gave me a night to remember; he was exactly who I needed that night. He was a lot of fun.”

“Oh.” Tamika was quiet a moment before Angie’s words registered. “Wait – you slept with one of their friends?”

Chuckling, Angie met Tamika’s eyes. “Yes. No, I won’t say who, but Richie knows, and Duncan won’t, because he’ll come down like the clan chief he was taught to be and try to tell me not to see him again. As if my friendship and my debt to him means he can dictate with whom I have consensual sex – it doesn’t. Intellectually, Duncan knows that. Reality sometimes means his knee-jerk reaction is not that great. Anything else?”

“What you’re saying then is, Duncan would really kill to protect me,” Tamika said.

“Yes.”

“And not regret it, not if it was to save me or to save the world from some great evil.”

Angie shook her head. “No.”

Tamika closed her eyes briefly. “How do you love someone like that?” she demanded. “How do you accept that you’re worth that?”

“I don’t have that answer for you, Tamika. I can’t convince you to be with Duncan or without him, Tamika; I’m not you. I can only tell you I wouldn’t give up my friendship with Richie, or with Duncan, or with any of the friends they’ve introduced me to, even with the side of danger they come with, for anything. Not even if it means I die protecting them. Richie and Duncan are amazing men, who have one big caveat about knowing them, but for me – that caveat means I have the career I want. It means I was not on the street, or turning tricks, or dead before my twenty-first birthday. It means I have friends who’ll be my date for high-society events and not embarrass me with their conversation, their clothes, their manners, or their ability to drink. It means I can ask them to introduce me to people who know how to help me with a case, or a problem client, or who’ll give me unforgettable experiences.”

Tamika stared at her. “You make it sound like you owe them.”

Angie nodded. “More than I can ever repay. They’re worth everything I will ever do. If it means I withhold the truth or I hold their secret, then I’ll do it in a heartbeat. I love Richie because he’s my best and oldest friend. I adore Duncan and consider him to be a fantastic friend. As for wanting him for more than that? Tamika, that’s where you come in. But if you don’t love Duncan, don’t think he’s worth risking your life to keep as a lover – then don’t.” Angie shrugged. “No one is chaining you to him or demanding you have to stay now you know he’s immortal. You won’t be the first lover he’s had who’s walked away.”

“What do you trade for knowing their secret?” Tamika asked.

“I’m more careful about who I share my life with, which is why having that night with one of their friends was so fabulous. I needed to feel pretty and wanted, after a run of bad relationships.” Angie took a breath before she added, “That care extends to friends. My circle of friends who don’t know about immortals is small, by choice. I’ve lost friends and lovers who didn’t get that if Richie or Duncan or one of their friends orders me to do something involving my safety, I’ll respect it. If you have parents who are still living, that means you can’t tell them why Duncan and Richie don’t age or why Duncan is as rich as he is or a hundred other things you might otherwise think is ok to disclose – like ‘Duncan bought that convertible when it was brand new.’”

Tamika did a double-take. “I hadn’t thought about that. I usually tell my parents a lot about my boyfriend and my friends.”

Angie nodded. “Most people do. You’ll have to edit yourself if you stay with Duncan. But the flip side is: we tell people more shit than they really need or want to know. Is Duncan worth it? Only you can decide that.”

Tamika nodded in understanding. “I really appreciate you taking the time to meet and talk to me.”

Angie rose. “Let me know if you have questions.”

She left Tamika contemplating the last of her coffee, no closer to an answer than when she had walked in.

* * *

Richie waited in the alley behind the coffee shop, leaning carefully against his motorcycle. Angie met him there, hugging him gently. “You worry too much,” she chided as she looked up at him.

“I’ve watched a woman break Duncan’s heart before,” he reminded her. “I still can’t think of walking into Seacouver General’s ER without wondering if I’ll run into Dr. Anne Lindsey.”

“She’s chief trauma surgeon now,” Angie told him. “Not likely you’ll see her unless it’s me in a deadly car crash.”

“Let’s not dare the universe on that one; my luck’s never been that good. Thanks for taking the time out to meet Tamika.”

“You’re welcome.” Angie sighed. “Tamika seems like a woman afraid to grab for the moon because someone convinced her it was too far away. People like that won’t change their minds until they’re shoved off the fence.”

Richie grimaced at that assessment. “I told Mac he needed to tell her sooner; he was undecided, and that was back in July. I like her, Angie. I’d like to see Mac in love with someone who’ll stay, the way he was when Tessa was alive.”

“I remember being envious of Tessa, that one time you introduced us. She seemed so effortlessly poised.”

Richie chuckled. “She wasn’t always.” He sighed heavily. “Maybe I’m just wishing too hard for something that isn’t mean to happen.”

“For what it’s worth, Richie, I hope it does, too. You and I have always been romantics. Want to meet for dinner?”

“Sure. Text me where you want to go; I promised Duncan I’d spar with him this afternoon, treat Nathan and Joe to a special show.”

Angie made a face. “I’m bummed I’ll miss it. Last time I saw you two spar was ten years ago.”

“Let me know when you’re free and we’ll make it happen.”

“With my case load and your work schedule, it’ll be Thanksgiving.”

Richie acknowledged that with a rueful nod. “Still: it’s you asking. If you hadn’t been here to help us with that first spar after we repaired our friendship, I’m not sure I wouldn’t still be dealing with flashbacks to that godawful Dark Quickening.”

Angie shook her head. “Only because you figured I could move faster than Joe. I still remember being terrified you’d both be hurt. Set a date for me to watch you two spar and we’ll figure it out.”

Richie nodded. “I’ll talk to Mac this afternoon and we’ll text you.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll think of you while I’m pouring over divorce papers for a couple that should have never gotten married and are now eyeing each other for dollar signs.”

He kissed her cheek. “Don’t let them crush your spirit. I love you, Angie. Thanks again.”

Angie grinned, certain his love for her would always be that of a deep and abiding friend. “Love you, too, Richie. Tell Duncan I said hello and not to kill you permanently.” She walked out of the alley towards the building where she worked.

* * *

Needing more answers, Tamika went to Joe’s the following evening.

Joe approached after she had ordered a glass of white wine. “Hi, Tamika. Duncan told me you might stop by to ask questions. Mind if I sit down?”

Tamika shook her head. Once Joe was settled, she leaned forward. “How long have you known Duncan?”

“As a friend? Since 1993,” Joe told her and smiled. “What questions can I answer for you?”

“You’ve seen him with other women?” At Joe’s nod, Tamika asked, “Why isn’t he with them?”

“Tessa’s dead; Amanda’s in love with someone who calls her on her bullshit; Anne can’t justify murder, not even if it saves her life; and the others weren’t interested in anything permanent.” Joe shrugged. “If you’re asking what Duncan sees in you, I’m not the guy you should ask that question.”

“I talked to Angie yesterday morning. She made it sound like even if Duncan lied by omission, what he would give me would make up for it.”

Joe sighed. “Are you a risk-taker, Tamika?”

“Only after I’ve weighed the risks. Why?”

“Because this is one situation where you have to take some things on faith. Duncan’s from an age where the clan leader decided for the entire clan, and its survival depended on those decisions. They raised him to fight for his clan, defend them from all comers, and make strategic decisions. Not telling you about the biggest secret he holds is part of that.”

“But if I asked, he’d tell me if he was fighting someone.”

Joe shrugged. “You might have to push him for disclosure. He’s stubborn and set in his ways, but he’ll listen to arguments. He might still do whatever he wants, but he’ll listen.”

Tamika chuckled softly. “Richie said he tried to convince Duncan to tell me back in July.”

Joe didn’t look surprised. “I heard.”

Tamika thought for a moment, trying to come up with a way to ask something without offending Joe. “Considering how long you’ve known Duncan and Richie, do you ever feel you’re standing next to perfection?”

Joe laughed. “I’d think that sometimes even if I had legs that worked. It’s not anything I obsess over, Tamika. I’ve been disabled since I was nineteen. I’ve known Duncan and Richie for over twenty years, and while they’ve made accommodations for my disability, they’ve never treated me like I was an aging cripple. I’ve had to argue with them – and several of their friends – when they’ve decided they want to contribute to my medical expenses, over my objections I get free medical care through the VA – but I’ve learned that it goes against their principles not to help a friend.”

Tamika sipped her wine before she asked, “Does it get harder to know them as time has passed?”

Joe shook his head. “Tamika, you’re looking at this from the wrong angle. Do you look at a friendship and wonder if they’ll stand with you, defend you when you need them, or do you just assume that will be the case?”

“Assume – isn’t that what you do for friends?”

“Yes, but with Duncan – you know why he’s doing it. You know he will be there, no questions. He’ll do that for you as your lover and as your friend. I’ve had few friends in my life who are that concrete in their reliability.” Joe studied her. “Do you object to the blood on his hands, from the people he’s killed? Not all of them were part of the Game. That inter-clan war he died in was over land. He’s taken part in rebellions, fought in multiple wars, helped his cousin battle privateers and pirates on the high seas.”

“I – I didn’t think about that part of his history, but I suppose – you live as long as he has, you choose a side or do nothing. I can’t see him on the sidelines.”

Joe barked a laugh. “No. But that also means that if the next war breaks out in your lifetime, he might fight instead of staying by your side.”

“My father was in the Navy. I grew up proud of his service, though he didn’t expect me to serve since I was a girl. I can’t… I don’t know what I’d say to Duncan if he wanted to go off to war. But I’d want the chance to say something.” Tamika took a breath. “I’m still angry he didn’t tell me before, even knowing Richie was pushing him to say something.”

“Richie is an advocate of disclosure when it’s someone who might become a target for headhunters. He remembers how scary it was when he was targeted for his relationship with Duncan and didn’t know why he was being targeted.” Joe studied Tamika a moment. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be angry, Tamika. Your world just got opened to a new way of living, and you can’t go back. That’s a loss of innocence. But as Duncan’s friend, I’m here to tell you if you don’t want him in your life, you need make it clear to him you want no contact ever again, not even to save your life.”

That brought Tamika’s head up, shocked. “I can’t imagine asking him that!”

“Then you need to figure out what you want from him,” Joe suggested. “Because he’ll operate on the assumption you don’t want to be his lover and stay away from you unless someone threatens your safety.”

“And Richie?”

“Richie will do the same. Though he might be inclined to check on you a little more, just to make sure you haven’t changed your mind about being friends with an immortal.”

Hearing the absolute conviction in his voice, Tamika stared at Joe. “You’ve watched them do it with someone else,” she said.

Joe nodded. “And I’ve had my share of arguments with Duncan over the years. Just because he’s over four hundred years old doesn’t mean he’s right about everything.” Joe studied Tamika a moment before asking, “Do you love him?”

“I thought I did,” Tamika shook her head. “I’m still upset. He was so charming with my parents and I saw a new side of him. I got so mad at him for it, I demanded to know what he’d been hiding from me. I had no idea what I was asking, Joe.” She shook her head again. “Then he told me about this secret and how he almost killed Richie. Richie even gave him the dagger he used to show me he could heal from being killed – and I cut Richie handing it back to him. They both acted like I was not being unreasonable, and I – I don’t know what to think, Joe. How can I love someone who lied to me by omission? When you and Angie both think what he did was not unreasonable?”

“In the grand scheme of what Duncan’s willing to do for you if you accept him?” Joe shook his head. “No, it isn’t. Doesn’t make it right, but he’s had reason to believe someone would reject him for it. His clan did – and when he tried to get them to take him back, they cast him out again. He’s had other lovers who refused to have anything to do with him; his last mortal girlfriend did. She still can’t wrap her head around his generosity, even though they broke up.”

“I don’t want to be that hateful.” Tamika looked distressed by the thought.

“Then sleep on it. They’re not going anywhere. Did you want another glass of wine?”

“No, I should get home. How much do I owe you?”

“On the house,” Joe waved off her offer to pay. “Be safe getting home.”

“Thanks for talking with me and for the wine.”

Joe smiled. “You’re welcome.”


	8. Chapter 8

#### Tuesday, October 15

As a general rule, Tamika did not hate doctors. She considered going to the doctor for preventative care and illness routine. Today, she was nervous and almost dialed Duncan’s number, but decided against it. Despite the conversations she had had with Angie and Joe, Tamika could not get past the fact he had, by omission, lied to her. That meant he was not worthy of standing beside her – and she was not sure how she felt about him as a whole.

At thirty-three years old, Tamika knew women had unusually heavy menstrual periods from time to time. Still, the extent of her periods had her worried, and she went to see her gynecologist. The last thing she expected, however, was for her gynecologist to send her to get an ultrasound that afternoon, wanting to rule out any foreign masses as the cause. The ultrasound revealed she had two large fibroids attached to the uterine wall. The diagnosis, delivered two days later by phone, made Tamika question her resolve, especially when she learned the way to remove the fibroids was via surgery. The thought of facing that alone terrified her more than the thought of asking Duncan to be there for her.

Needing a second opinion from someone who knew about Duncan, Tamika called Angie, asking to meet in person.

“You said it was personal and private,” Angie began as they sat on opposite ends of the couch in her office. “What can I do for you? Keep in mind, if this involves the law, I have to advise you I have legal limitations as I am a licensed lawyer.”

“Nothing involving the law,” Tamika said hastily. “This involves Duncan and me. You said two weeks ago something about how he’s helped you.” She met Angie’s concerned gaze. “If I told him I needed him because I have to undergo surgery, how much would he be there?”

“One hundred ten percent,” Angie said without hesitation. “I called Richie one night in a panic, freaking out because he was in Paris and I needed to have surgery. He called Duncan, and two days later, Duncan drove me to the appointment and then home, listened to the doctor, and fussed over me for the next week while I recovered.”

“Even though Richie’s more your friend than he is?”

“Even though.” Angie paused and considered her visitor. “What kind of surgery and when?”

“It’s to remove uterine fibroids, and it’s scheduled for November 1. Why?”

“Is it at Seacouver General’s Pine Hill Surgery Center?”

“Yes. How did you guess?”

“Most people in the city go there, unless they go to the All Faith Hospital’s one.”

Tamika shuddered. “Isn’t that the one that got sued last year for overdosing a patient and nearly killing him?”

“Yes, but,” Angie said flatly, “not all insurance plans accept Seacouver General. I just wanted to be sure you were at the better facility.”

“Yes, thank God. If my insurance didn’t accept Seacouver General, I’m not sure I’d be as willing to get this surgery done elsewhere.”

Angie checked her calendar on her computer before telling Tamika, “If you can’t bear the thought of Duncan taking care of you, I can be there for you. I’m not scheduled for court that day.”

Tamika closed her eyes briefly. “Much as I appreciate the offer, that’s not the problem. The problem is I can see him doing it, and then I’m back to that fear he won’t tell me something. That he’s hiding something bigger than immortality.”

“I doubt it, but you need to push for answers, Tamika. Who are you wanting to please?”

“My parents and my sense of what’s right and proper,” Tamika answered. “But I keep circling around to what you and Joe have told me and the thought of being alone for this – I don’t know what to do.”

“If you haven’t made your mind by the day before your surgery, let me know.”

“Wouldn’t you need to rearrange your schedule for that?”

“You let me worry about that,” Angie said firmly. “Regardless of what happens with you and Duncan, I want you to know you have a friend in me.”

“I really appreciate that. I haven’t gotten to know as many people here as I would like.” Tamika rose. “Will you take a hug? I really am grateful everything you’ve done for me.”

Angie chuckled and hugged her. “Any time.”

* * *

Duncan breathed in the shower's steam in the locker room, using the moment to focus his energy on what he had to do next. He had an hour before the evening classes started. The dojo he had built had a lobby area, three studio spaces, locker rooms, and a small office. The space enabled him to run concurrent evening classes, which meant they would use all three spaces tonight. He had already taught two classes, including a private session with his instructors to go over what they wanted to teach both tonight and the upcoming week and ensure they were continuing to abide by the standards he had set.

He missed Tamika. It had been almost three weeks since she had told him she needed space to think about their relationship considering his disclosure. He missed being with a woman; his relationship in Tokyo had ended without disclosure of immortality, and with the mutual understanding that they were not looking for anything permanent. When Duncan had realized he had fallen in love, he knew the easiest thing to do given the person he was with then was to leave the city, start over somewhere else. That strategy had worked, but now it was five years later, and what he wanted, who he wanted, was Tamika.

With a sigh, he finished his shower and got dressed in the jeans and t-shirt he wore in between classes. He had midmonth billing to process and rent to pay, and the sooner he got both accomplished, the better off he would be. 

He was halfway through his self-assigned tasks when he heard the door chime, warning him of someone coming into the dojo. He stepped out of the office to see Tamika, looking a bit lost.

“Tamika! Good to see you!” he greeted, holding back his affection with an effort.

“Is this, uh, a good time to talk?”

Duncan glanced at his watch. “I have half an hour, but yes.” He gestured to a couch in the lobby, which served as a waiting room for the parents who went with their children to class.

Taking the seat he indicated, Tamika took a breath. “I’ve thought a lot about what you and Richie told me. I have a lot of questions, but before I ask them, I want you to know I’ve feared disappointing… well, pretty much everyone. Richie and Angie both asked me a lot of questions that got me thinking about how I’ve been living my life, like I have to measure up to some invisible yardstick my mother is holding.” Tamika took a deep breath. “And if I keep on living like that, I’ll let love slide on by without ever knowing it was mine to keep.”

Hope flared to life within Duncan’s chest and he reached for Tamika’s hand. “Tamika, I love you. I believe in you. It’s okay to be scared; you have me to lean on. I swear I’ll protect you from anything that’s in my power to protect you from.”

Tamika smiled, her eyes shining with tears. “Angie said you’d say that.” She grasped his hands. “Everyone thinks I’m this badass female executive, but I know what I’m doing at work; I know what’s expected of me to succeed. Outside of that – I don’t know. I’m hoping you can help me figure it out, because I love you and I want to be with you. But before you get too excited - I have a favor to ask. I’m hoping you’re not too upset with me.”

Duncan shook his head. “No. What can I do for you?”

“I have to have surgery to remove uterine fibroids. They’re benign tumors made of smooth muscle cells and fibrous connective tissue; they rarely cause problems but they’re causing me to bleed excessively and have pain when I have my period, which is both annoying and alarming. The surgery is scheduled for two weeks from tomorrow at Seacouver General’s outpatient surgery clinic. They want to put me under anesthesia and then use a special tube to remove the fibroids, so they won’t have to cut me open. They want someone to be there to take me home.” She looked at him anxiously. “I know you wanted someone perfect–”

Duncan kissed her. “I want you, Tamika. I’ll take you to the surgery and drive you home and do whatever you need me to do so you can recover.”

“I feel broken.”

“Why? Because something in your body that’s causing you pain and annoyance needs to be removed?” Duncan did his best to keep his voice calm; he would research on her condition to understand it better, but it alarmed him. “Tamika, I may be immortal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain. Being able to heal from everything means I’ve also been injured and died a few ways that were not fun.”

“Oh,” Tamika said. “I didn’t think about it that way. Do you still want me?”

“Yes,” Duncan told her, and kissed her. She sighed into the kiss, surrendering to him, and only the awareness they would not be alone for long restrained him. “Will you stay and watch the practice tonight? We have all levels practicing tonight.”

“I’d like that,” Tamika told him.

* * *

Two nights before her scheduled surgery, Tamika started her period, forcing her to reschedule. Having already arranged to stay with Duncan and take the time off, she tried to argue he didn’t need to see her when she was on her period. Duncan eyed her, told her he had learned menstruation didn’t make women unclean and worthy of being shunned, and if she bled on his sheets, he had stain remover, detergent, and a washer and he knew how to use all three.

Friday night, she was still bleeding heavily and complaining of unusual pain. Worried, Duncan insisted on taking her to the ER, where she was whisked away to triage.

Unable to be with her while she underwent treatment, Duncan did his best to not pace the waiting room. He texted Richie, who at midnight was still at work, informing him of the situation. Two hours later, Richie showed up, his Turquoise Fox uniform polo peeking out from under his motorcycle jacket. Relief at his presence whooshed through Duncan, and he drew strength from it.

“Heard anything yet?”

Duncan shook his head.

“Want me to do anything for you?”

“Clean up the bed in the master bedroom? It looks like a crime scene, and I’d rather not take her home to that. She was already feeling mortified I saw her bleeding.”

Richie winced, imagining Tamika’s reaction. “I’ll get it cleaned up. Anything else?”

Duncan inhaled deeply, taking comfort in Richie’s willingness to do whatever he needed. “Get some sleep after that. You worked a double shift today. I’ll text you with any news.”

Nodding, Richie gripped Duncan’s shoulder, then left.

It was nearly dawn before a nurse directed him to a conference room just off the ER waiting room lobby. “Doctor Lindsey will be with you in a moment,” the nurse told him.

Duncan’s breath caught, and he forced himself to breathe as Anne stepped into the room. Her professional mask slipped a moment before she noted wryly, “Well, as ways to meet your new girlfriend go, this was not how I expected. Hi, Duncan.”

“Hi, Anne. Trust me when I say I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Anne shook her head. “It’s all right. You wouldn’t even be talking to me right now if our staff gynecologist didn’t have a baby she was delivering; she went from helping me with Tamika to that, so you get me instead. Am I right in thinking Tamika is your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m glad she’s here. All Faith Hospital is dealing with a gang shootout; they might not have seen her as priority in that chaos.”

Duncan winced at that. “How bad was she?”

“I won’t sugarcoat it, since I know you can handle it. Tamika almost died tonight. She had a uterine fibroid that burst; we were able to stabilize her, remove the fibroids, and control the bleeding. I saw from her chart she was scheduled for removal of her uterine fibroids?”

Duncan nodded. “Was supposed to be earlier today but she started her period and she was told not to come in until it was over.”

Anne shook her head. “Then I’m glad she was with you. You got her here in time. I’m going to hold her here for another day, just to make sure she doesn’t have any complications, but she’s going to need to take it easy once she’s released.” Anne went over what else Duncan could expect, and her professionalism went a long way towards easing any awkwardness he felt at knowing she had met Tamika under emergent circumstances.

* * *

Two days later, a nurse woke Tamika. “Sorry to wake you, but I need to know what you want for your last breakfast before you get to go home. It usually takes a few hours; you’ll want to eat something.”

Tamika made her breakfast order. She was in the middle of eating it when a female doctor she did not recognize stopped in to see her.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Anne Lindsey,” the woman introduced herself. “I’m the chief trauma surgeon here; I worked on you when you came in.”

Tamika’s eyes widened. “Thank you for everything you did. I thought I was bleeding a lot, but Duncan made it seem like he was afraid I was dying.”

“He made the right call. You almost died.”

“So I heard,” Tamika murmured. “He also told me you used to date him and that you walked away after you knew what he is.”

Anne didn’t look surprised. “I didn’t want to put up with what he does to protect people. It goes against my oath to save lives. I wish you luck.” Sincerity shone on Anne’s face.

Tamika studied her. “I appreciate it. But if you’re thinking you can convince me to join you on that side of the fence, you’re out of luck.”

“I figured as much,” Anne told her. “Your gynecologist has reviewed the results and will be stopping by to review any questions you might have as well as schedule a follow-up. You’ll be out of here by lunch time. Did you have any questions for me?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not enough for all the things he and Richie did for me,” Anne told her quietly. “Not enough to compromise my principles. I’ve never had anyone love me like that, or be a friend like that, since. But I still won’t compromise, and while I’m grateful, I’m glad I don’t see them every day.”

Tamika nodded in understanding. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Anne exited the room, but not before seeing Duncan coming down the hallway. She deliberately turned and went the other way, unwilling to talk to him.

Concerned, Duncan stepped into Tamika’s room. “What did Anne want?”

Tamika shrugged. “Just to confirm something in her head, I suppose. Warn me off maybe.” She looked at Duncan. “I love you. Thank you for insisting I needed to go to the ER.”

Duncan kissed her. “You’re welcome.” He grasped her hand. “I talked to your boss, and he said not to worry about coming to work this week or the next, that you just take the time to recover.”

“You didn’t have to do that! I would’ve emailed him when we got home!”

“Now you don’t have to,” Duncan said practically. “They were worried when they didn’t hear from you yesterday.”

“I’m going to drive you crazy, sitting at home,” Tamika warned him.

“We’ll work it out,” Duncan assured her. “You’re worth it.”

Tamika smiled and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism, general comments, comments on where to go from here, kudos, keyboard smashes, etc. all welcome.


End file.
